The Other Details
by RebelzHeart
Summary: You've seen Harry Potter from Harry's perspective, but what about Hermione's?
1. Some Odd Things

Hermione Granger crossed her legs, one over the other as she read her book. Her wild, tangled brown hair was tied back in a messily done ponytail, and there were many stray hairs littered across her wide forehead. She was sitting on a bench at her school and it was break time. The sun shone brightly and a cool, gently breeze ruffled the pages of her book. It was a really interesting book anyways, describing a theory on Einstein's equations. It wasn't a book that a normal 11-year-old would read, but then, Hermoine was _not_ a normal 11-year-old.

"Hi Hermione." Melissa, one of the few girls on the academic team said, smiling. Melissa was a _genius_ who's vast knowledge got her to actually _skip a grade_, from grade 3 to grade 5, instead of going to grade 4. Maybe it was because she was Asian or something like that. Asians were supposed to be great scholars, but that was probably just stereotyping.

"Hello Melissa." Hermione replied, smiling as she pushed a bushy lock of light brown hair from her eyes. "What's this about? Do we have a surprise meeting or something of that sort?" She asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.

Melissa laughed, a twinkly laugh that only Melissa could create, and pushed a strand of soft, wavy black hair behind her ear. "Oh, do I have to have a reason for everything Hermione? Can't I just say hello to a fellow academic?" Hermoine was more and more sure that Melissa wanted something.

"Oh come on!" Hermione said, laughing. "I know that you're building up to something."

Melissa grinned, and laughed. "You're right Hermione." She admitted. "We do have a special meeting." She laughed. "I don't know why I was so nervous about saying that." She added, laughing and giggling.

Hermione nodded. "Me neither. What's the meeting about?" She asked.

"Well... you know state competitions?" She asked.

Hermione's eyes widened. "No way!" She squealed. "_Our team_ made the _state_!?" She exclaimed. "No way. No way!"

Melissa just grinned, and smirked. "Yes way." She replied. "We... made the state competition! And we're going to talk about our study tactics at the meeting." Melissa explained.

Hermione shook her head, and laughed. "No way!" She repeated, but her voice was excited. She believe Melissa. "I cannot believe that you took us this far!" She exclaimed in excitement. She leaped forwards and squeezed Melissa tightly, her jittery with excitement.

"Whoa, slow down Hermione!" Melissa exclaimed, but she was giggling too. "This is going to be great though, I totally agree with you."

Hermione smiled blissfully, the wind tangled her already bushy and messed up hair. "Hey!" Hermoine exclaimed, weakly trying desperately to smooth down her hair with both her hands.

Melissa laughed. "Perhaps the wind will do your poor hair some good Hermione." She teased, running her long, slender fingers through her long, pretty and wavy pitch black hair.

Hermione made a face. "Oh please. What do you do? Stand in the wind and it just smooths out your hair all nice and pretty for you, and is that how you're hair comes to be so nice, so sleek and shiny?" She asked, shaking her head and continuing to run her fingers through the thick tangled knots that had settled in her hair.

"No." Melissa replied, grinning. "But you're hair- well, let's just say that your hair- it can not possibly get any worse. And I'm saying this as a scientific _fact._"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but stopped running her fingers over her tangled hair. She mock-posed. "How do I look?" She asked in a thick European accent. "Do I look like a-" Hermoine paused, dramatically tilting her head back and getting a fierce expression on her face. "-top supermodel?"

Melissa was giggling so hard that she had to support herself on the arm rest of the outdoor bench where Hermione was sitting, her finger still in the book, in between pages like a coin in a vending machine slot. "Oh please." Melissa snorted, giggling as she sat down on the wood, worn and a faint brown from the many rain- and thunder-storms. "You're far from it, I refuse to examine your product!" She added in a fake posh British lady accent.

Hermoine struck a pose. "Ah, but this is what my product does! It makes beautiful girls-" She paused again, making a scrunched up face, her nose wrinkling up slightly. "-go- ugly! And all for a profit!"

Melissa giggled. "Oh Hermione." She exclaimed. "You're hilarious."

Hermione smiled and stood up, then did a mock, totally fake curtsy. "Thank you." She said in a fake Elvis accent, then curled up her fingers to make a fist, then raised her index fingers and both her thumbs and pointed it at Melissa, shaking her head to a side. "Thank ya very much. Uh huh."

"You're pretty good at doing the Elvis impersonation." Melissa complimented Hermoine. A smile flashed across Hermione's face and she beamed at the compliment, and Hermione nodded, tilting her head slightly down so that Melissa knew that she appreciated the compliment.

"Thanks." Hermione said. "That means a lot coming from you." Melissa laughed.

"Nah, I was being sarcastic." She said, her voice practically _dripping_ heavily with sarcasm. "I _totally_ wasn't complimenting you." Then she widened her eyes, and clapped both hands of her cheeks in horror. "Actually-" Melissa gasped, and pressed the back of her hand against forhead. "-the horror of the truth! I was!" She exclaimed, faking a voice of amazement and shock.

Hermione laughed. "Oh Melissa." She said, giggling. "You're such a drama queen. For goodness' sake, don't be so- so _dramatic_!"

Melissa shrugged. With a sigh, perhaps of annoyance, Hermione returned to her book. Melissa reached up and pushed away a loose strand of her curly-wavy pitch black hair from her wide forehead, then plopped it onto the top of her head. The strand of curly-wavy hair rested there for a moment, before going _boing_ and bouncing back to where it had been earlier. Melissa sighed.

"Okay." Melissa said. "Anyways, I have to be dramatic." She paused dramatically. "I was born for the theater!" She exclaimed loudly, rolling her _r_'s on the tip of her tongue.

Hermione giggled. "That's good."

"Anyways." Melissa said. "I have to go and make arrangements."

Hermione's smile faded momentarily. Then she managed to gain her composure and forced a smile onto her lips. "Okay then." She said in a cheerful voice, but underneath the thin layer of cheerfulness her voice was as harsh, stiff and flat as cardboard. It was clear that she wanted Melissa to _leave_.

Unfortunately (or perhaps it was fortune- just the wrong kind) Melissa didn't properly interpret it that way, so Melissa smiled brightly.

"Why don't you go and do your things? I'll see you at the meeting!" Hermione said with a thin smile, but there was a harsh note in her voice. "Well then- bye." And Hermione turned rudely back to reading her book, her chin lifted in that oh-you-think-you're-so-much-better-than-me? way.

"Yep!" Melissa replied, smiling brightly still. _Aaargghhhhh!_ Hermione thought, in a high-handed way. _Can't she just take a hint and clear off?_

Hermione smiled stiffly at Melissa, who was still standing there, rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, a smile frozen on her face, as though she were unsure what to do. "Um- yeah, so, you should go now." Hermione said, resisting the strong urge to roll her eyes.

Melissa nodded. "Right. Well, see ya!" And she turned and skipped off, her curly-wavy black hair rippling out behind her, waving up and down like a banner in the air, and the wind pushed softly, slicing through it.

Hermione sighed, and tilted her head back, feeling the soft feel of the wind push back her bushy light brown hair, and she felt it brush her cheeks. For a moment (just a moment, mind you) she felt as though she could catch the wind, leap on it, and sail off. The sun beat down on her pale peach colored skin, and Hermione's eyes closed, and she felt as though she could go to sleep despite the sounds of kids running around and shouting out loud to each other. She tilted her head down to her side, and was about to doze of when...

_Riiiiiiinnnnnngggggggg!_

The school bell shrieked out loudly, and the noisy sound of the bell was to warn students that it was time for class to begin.

Hermione sighed, shaking her head and her tangles and curls fell back into their normal messy placing in her badly done ponytail. She reached up and pulled down both of her bright, yet pale and faded blue scrunchies then yanked off her small black hairband. Tangled knots of light, sugar colored brown hair fell down, roughly and inch or two past Hermione's shoulders, and Hermione quickly smoothed down her loose, straight, short brown bangs that hung also about an inch or two on her wide forehead.

She shuffled forwards, sighing and rubbing her head in annoyance when she was knocked down onto the tarmac ground by the stampede of rushing children. Hermione brushed of her knees, then winced as she rolled up her long, loose dirty pants (it was laundry day) and it revealed her knee with a small part of it missing it's skin. She touched it, then winced and shivered as her finger came back stained with blood. Pressing her lips together, Hermione stood up, her knees feeling like jelly because they were so wobbly. With a sigh, Hermione strode forwards and into the school.

There were crowds of people all in the elementary school, and Hermione was finally going to be a senior next year. No one dared argue with a senior, and all seniors were looked up to as roll models. Hermione scurried to class, then sat down just as the teacher pulled out his attendance. Hermione could never afford to be late, as that would go onto her academic record, and she couldn't afford to do that if she wanted to go to a good collage- perhaps an Ivy League school, like Harvard.

"Hello class." Her teacher, Mr. Simmons said, his words short and clipped like they always were. His voice suggested that he was tired, and stressed after a long three hours. To tell the truth, his class was quite rowdy, and teaching them was quite a challenge, but that was why he loved his job- right?

Hermione noticed, sadly, that Mr. Simmons' hair was starting to gray, as it always did when he was stressed. But it always disappeared, as soon as there was a test.

Mr. Simmons brightened considerably as soon as he saw Hermione, and his gray hair seemed to just disappear. "Hello Hermione!" He said cheerfully, his hair nice and black once again.

"Hullo Mr. Simmons!" Hermione said cheerfully, flashing her teacher a brilliant smile, showing her slightly (okay, _overly_) large teeth as she smiled at her teacher. "I hope that you've had a exclusive morning so far!" She added, her smile pasted to her face.

Mr. Simmons smiled with real warmth, the kind that only his star pupil would be able to drag out of him. "Thank you very much Hermione..." He started to say when one of his many, _many_ students cleared his throat in a grumpily, annoyed way.

"Yeah, whatever, Mister Simmons is best friends with one of his students, blah blah blah blah blah. For goodness sake, aren't we supposed to be here at school to learn, not talk about who cares what?" His student asked, raising an eyebrow and leaning forwards, elbows propped up, his head resting on his hands.

Mr. Simmons blushed a bright red. "O-o-oh, y-y-yes." He stuttered, his cheeks tinted with a faded shade pink."Right. So... we'll be talking about gravity today, and how it contrasts with friction..."

For Hermione, Mr. Simmons' voice had long faded away. It wasn't that he wasn't interesting, in fact, far from it! It was simply that Hermione had in fact already read ahead of the class in her textbook, and she was already knowledgeable of all a fifth grader needed to know about gravity's pull and how friction was caused and used, not to mention _needed_.

"... and now class, we have our math test." Mr. Simmons announced. "Do not worry, it is just to see how much you know, not what we've learned, so don't worry." He chuckled at his own joke.

Ah yes, the math test. Hermione had already practically memorized the math textbook, even though the school year had just barely started, as in fact this _was_ only the fifth day only, but the academics competed in the summer, so Hermione was totally ready for whatever this test had.

Mr. Simmons handed out sheets of paper on the right side up, and Hermione clutched her pencil so tightly that the palm of her hand soon started to sweat. She stared at the so-called "test" and nearly laughed out loud. These questions were so easy! But she said nothing, simply reviewed the test in her head and quickly filled out the blanks with answers in the test.

"And... you may start!" Mr. Simmons announced.

Hermione quickly filled in the blanks with answers, her wrist moving quickly as she filled in the blanks with such speed that a collage professor would guess that she was a robot or perhaps had a cheat sheet. Hermione finished her test while all her peers were still stumped on the third question. There were ten questions in total. When Hermione finished, she put it onto Mr. Simmons' test. She smiled brightly at him, then went back to her desk and waited for school to end.

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An tall, stern looking woman with grayed-brown hair put in a tightly done bun walked down the bright, sun shone sidewalk, her chin held up high in a way that showed that you could not faze her. Her shoes _click clack_ed as she walked down the sidewalk with confidence, but not in a bad way. She stopped in front of a bright, cute little white cottage with windows where the light reflected it nicely. "Hmm. Muggles. Why do they live in such tiny houses?" She wondered out loud, then sighed, and stepped onto the porch of the quaint little cottage-like house. "Well, I sure hope that this is the right house. If it were the wrong one, that won't be good." And with that she rapped sharply on the door.

A young, stressed looking young woman opened the door. She had bags under her eyes that showed that she worked so hard that sometimes she worked late into the night, and she had worry wrinkles, as only a mother could have. "Oh... hello." The young woman said nervously, pushing back her tangled hair which was done in a quite messy bun. She wore an apron over her low cut jeans and t-shirt. "We're not accepting advertisements and we don't need to buy anything so..."

"I'm not here to advertise or to sell anything Mrs. Granger." The stern looking woman cut in.

The young woman-I mean, Mrs. Granger (Hermione's mother) looked startled. "H-h-how do you know my name?" She stuttered.

The stern looking woman gave Mrs. Granger a faint smile. "I'm Professor McGonagall..." (Mrs. Granger bit her lip quickly to keep from laughing. Professor McGonagall gave her a stern look which immediately shut her up.) "...from the school of Hogwarts. We are interested in your daughter, Hermione Granger, correct?" McGonagall asked with a thin smile.

Mrs. Granger nodded, dumbfounded. "Yes." She said, then raised an eyebrow. "But how did you know that you're not faking? How do I know that you're not going to hurt our little Hermione?" She asked.

McGonagall nodded. "Of course." She said, her voice understanding. "I totally understand. You have to protect your child, make sure that she isn't going to be hurt or anything like that. Mother's intuition, correct?"

Mrs. Granger nodded, seeming a little breathless.

McGonagall laughed. "Well, you don't need to worry about anything of the sort." She paused. "Didn't you get the letter from Hogwarts?" The professor asked, sounding puzzled.

Mrs. Granger laughed but it came out sounding strangled. "Ooohh- I- eh- um- eh- hem, ca, eh hem hem hem!" She exclaimed, clearing her throat. "Ooh- you mean that letter? The one from that Hogwarts place? Addressed to Hermione?"

McGonagall nodded. "Yep." She said, her tone clipped and short. "That's the one!"

Mrs. Granger's cheeks flushed a bright, crimson and they went hot in embarrassment. "Oooh... well, you see... I just thought that... you know, since it was written in this sparkly, funny looking green ink... so- so I just threw it out without looking at it! I'm sorry- I'm so, so sorry Professor McGongegell."

"Actually, it's professor McGonagall." Professor McGonagall corrected.

Mrs. Granger blushed again. "Right." She said, her smile frozen on her face, as though she didn't know what to do next.

"Well then." Professor McGonagall said, sighing. "May I take a seat?"

Mrs. Granger's cheeks went fierce red. "Oh- I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed, as though startled. "Where are my manners!?" She exclaimed to herself.

"Muggles." Professor McGonagall muttered under her breath with a sigh.

"Please-Please do take a seat!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed, gesturing hopelessly and wildly towards her clean white couch. With a sigh, shaking her head and murmuring something under her breath Professor McGonagall sat down on the couch, squeezing her eyes shut as though she couldn't believe that she was doing this.

"Well then." Professor McGonagall said, her voice crisp and quick to cut straight to the point. "It's a good thing that I always have a spare letter whenever I pick up witches and wizards that are muggle-born. Or else where would I be?" McGonagall murmured to herself

Mrs. Granger widened her eyes and gasped. "Witches and wizards!?" She exclaimed, then shook her head and regained her composure. "I don't think that my dear little Hermione should go to your school." She said stiffly. "It's obvious that the teachers there are balmy, crazy to speak about wizards and such fables."

Professor McGonagall adjusted her glasses then peered closely at Mrs. Granger, then whipped out a wand. She pointed it in the air and fire burst out of it, up the old- fashioned chimney. She asked a question, still peering closely at Mrs. Granger. "Oh, am I crazy?"

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_Brrrrrriiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnngggggggggg!_

The school bell called loudly, signaling that school had ended. Hermione sighed, a blissful smile on her lips. She had just finished reading a couple of books and finishing an English Literature essay.

With both straps of her light blue backpack resting on her shoulders, Hermione skipped out of school with a smile. She walked on to the school bus, as she didn't really live near her home. So she continued walking, remembering the meeting. Right. She had to inform her parents of the meeting. Hermione walked down the steep hill upon which her school was built, running down the last bit. The wind whipped her hair back, and she once again felt so fast that she could just climb the back of the wind and fly.

Hermione raised her foot... and screamed as her foot didn't go down to the ground. Instead, it remained standing on the air. Hermione heard, rather than felt, herself screamed as her body lifted in the air, still standing. Hermione's knees shook, her legs wobbled, and her legs felt as though they were made of jelly. Hermoine felt herself fall back... and screamed as she fell down, falling with speed and ferocity to the ground.

"Oof." Hermione said as her back smashed against the wind. It had swooped in no longer a soft, slight and steady breeze but a whizzing whirlpool, racing to keep her in the air. Her head was throbbing and she felt dizzy, her mind spinning in circles until it could spin no more. Hermione steadied herself, clutching on tightly- practically to thin air! Or rather, to the edges of the wind. Steadying her breath, Hermione didn't dare close her eyes, fearing what would happen if she did.

"Ooohh..." Hermione moaned, wishing that she could press her hands to her forehead but she was too scared to do so. "I hate flying." She whispered, her fingernails trying their best to dig themselves into the wind. (If only could do that.) "I hate flying." She repeated it like a chant. "I hate flying. I hate flying. I hate fly-" Hermione paused, and to her amazement, she saw that she was up in the clouds! Amazing! Fantastic! Plus, it was _beautiful._

"Wow." Hermione muttered to herself. "I suppose that flying isn't _that_ bad." Hermione paused. "Oh wait. Yes, yes it is!" And she continued her chant, but it didn't help. Hermione sighed. "A square plus B square equals C square because of the multiplication, and the simple addition..." Hermione continued to sooth herself by using her academic knowledge. "And twenty-thousand-four-hundred and two is equivalent to one-thousand-one-hundred plus one-thousand-three-hundred and two, because of the simple addition of the numbers whilst..." And so on, she continued to blabber about equations and math and such as she flew.

Hermione sighed in relief as she finally saw her old, cottage styled home, then slapped a hand over her mouth when she saw puffs of fire rushing into the air from the old-fashioned chimney that father had insisted on buying.

"Fire!" She yelled but her words were lost in the wind. _Okay_. She reassured herself quickly. _There could be many reasons that there is fire coming from my chimney, and my house is not going to burn down to the ground. For instance, there could simply be a fire in the fireplace._ But that couldn't be! Because there would be smoke coming out... not fire.

Hermione's head spun, and not just because she was now officially afraid of heights and hated flying.

"I've got to get home." Hermione murmured. Just then, abruptly, the wind veered of course and Hermione dropped down to her knees, screaming as the wind whizzed towards her house.

But just as suddenly as it started, the wind stopped and went at a smooth, gentle speed, that Hermione would've used to love except that she now hated flying (of have you forgotten?). Hermione lurched forwards for a second, then landed back on the wind.

"I hate flying." Hermione muttered to herself just as the wind stopped and let her off in front of her house.

"I am never, ever going to ever fly ever again." Hermione promised herself as she shakily stepped off the wind and onto the porch of her house. The wind swirled around, as though rolling it's eyes and saying _Thanks a lot_ in a sarcastic voice. She opened the door and stepped into her house. "Hey mom, I'm home!" She called loudly as she took off her shoes.

"I'm in the living room!" Her mother called back, just as loudly.

Hermione walked into the living room, brushing a frizzy lock of brown hair from her eyes, then stopped short. There, sitting in their living room, was a stern looking woman with dark brown hair tied in a neat and tight bun and was wearing glasses. "Um... mom... who's this?" She asked.

Her mother forced a smile, but the smile was stiff. "This is Professor McGonagall." Her mother explained. "She will be one of your teachers at the new school that you'll be attending.

Hermione's bushy brown eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "What? We're moving?" She asked.

Professor McGonagall, Hermione's new teacher laughed. "No, no Hermione, you won't be moving. But you'll be attending a new school... one more... oh... how do I say this?... one more... better _suited_ for your _special_ abilities."

Hermione stared. "Special abilities?" She asked, her eyes wide.

Her mother took a deep breath in, then stared at Hermione with wide eyes. "Hermione... you're a witch." She was wringing her hands nervously as though unsure of what Hermione's reaction would be.

Hermione burst out laughing. "A witch?" She asked, giggling. "Oh mom, you could have come up with something way better than _that_." She exclaimed.

Professor McGonagall shook her head. "This is no joke Hermione." She said, handing Hermione a small, closed envelope with HERMIONE GRANGER and her address written in bright green ink. It read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)  
Dear Mrs. Granger,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall,  
Deputy Headmistress

Hermione shook her head. "This can't be real." She muttered.

"Do you want proof?" McGonagall asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yes." She said. McGonagall pulled out her wand and pointed it at the table. It turned into a pig, then she turned it back again. Hermione folded her arms over her chest. "That's all very well, but how do I know that _I_'m a witch, as you say that I am?" She asked pointedly. McGonagall simply shook her head and smiled.

"Really Hermione." McGonagall said. "Did weird things ever happen to you?"

_Did she know about me flying?_ Hermione wondered to herself, her throat dry, Hermione nodded. "Yes." She croaked out. "Yes... strange things have happened to me before." Hermione agreed.

McGonagall nodded. "You see?" She asked with a smile. "You're a wizard!"

Hermione gaped. "I-I-I'm a witch?" She asked.

Her mother nodded. "Yes." Her mother was pulling out her wallet. "Alright then Professor McGonagall, how much do I have to pay in order for Hermione to go to this witchcraft and wizardry school?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

McGonagall shook her head. "In the wizarding world we have different money. We have knuts, sickles, and gallons. not your foolish looking type of money. Don't worry, it's only a couple of galleons, that's nice since it _is_ the best school of wizardry and witchcraft. We'll have to figure something out, perhaps find you a job where magic is not needed." McGonagall paused to take a deep breath. "But perhaps we can work out a scholarship." She peered at Hermione as though sizing her up. "I hear that you're a good student."

Hermione nodded. "I will not disappoint you Professor McGonagall." She said.

McGonagall pressed her lips together. "I hope not." She said. "Or you could very well be kicked out of Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded, her tongue dry. "Where are we going first?" She asked.

McGonagall smirked. "Do you like shopping?"

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"Professor McGonagall." Hermione called. "Professor McGonagall!" She quickened her pace until she reached the witch. (She's a witch, literally!)

"Yes Hermione?" McGonagall asked with a sigh, pursing her lips together. "What is it now? I know that you're muggle-born, but for goodness sake, why must you have this many questions about the wizard world? And you being a witch, is it that hard to believe?"

Hermione sighed, and bite her lip. She couldn't afford to talk back to a teacher! That would be absolutely disgraceful! "Well, actually, I was just going to ask what we were going to buy." She explained. "Do you have a shopping list or something?"

With a sigh, Professor McGonagall pulled out a small sheet of paper with some items scribbled on it, and it looked as though the writer of this shopping list was quite rushed when he or she was writing what the students of Hogwarts school would have to buy fore the semesters. Hermione read it in her head, her eyes scanning the words. It read:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_UNIFORM_

_First-year students will require:_

_1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_- Rules & Guidelines4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags_

_COURSE BOOKS_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_wand _

_wand cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) set_

_glass or crystal phials_

_telescope set_

_brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

"Whoa." Hermione said as she read it. "That's a lot of stuff." Her eyes scanned the paper some more, and her eyes widened. "Whoa! You have broomsticks!? You actually fly on broomsticks and stuff?" She blurted out.

"Yes. Yes, we do fly on broomsticks, though, we do not have green faces and most of us aren't even if you haven't noticed." McGonagall said dryly. "I do not have a black cat either, so don't ask, and _most_ of us aren't evil."

"Most?" Hermione squeaked out.

McGonagall cast Hermione a look of disapproval. "You shouldn't believe stereotypes you know young lady." McGonagall said briefly. "Think of it like this. We simply live like you muggles do, simply with magic."

"Muggles?" Hermione squeaked.

McGonagall slapped her own forehead. "Argh." The teacher said, rubbing her forehead. "Muggles. Yes, yes, I've forgotten, you have no idea what muggles are, though very well both of your parents are muggles, as there isn't an ounce of magic in you, except that you're a muggle-born child. That is quite annoying how you keep asking, and I have to answer or else I have to explain it to you sooner or later. Children, especially muggle-born children can be quite annoying. Oh well, this is what a muggle is, it's very simply, just a non-magic person. Like your parents. We're very well humans to you know!" McGonagall sighed, and shook her head. "Anyways, we should get going to buy our things." She added.

"Um... not to be critical or anything..." Hermione squeaked. "But... where exactly are we to buy these magical things if we're in the muggle world?" She held her breath. To her surprise, McGonagall burst out laughing.

"You think that we're going to go shopping for your Hogwarts items in the muggle world!?" McGonagall choked out. "You- you think that we're shopping here? In the muggle part of London!?" McGonagall shook her head. "You've got to be balmy! Crazy, I tell you!" McGonagall exclaimed. "Anyways, this is the case. We're going to shop in London, simply not the muggle part of it. We're going to the wizard world, that's for certain." McGonagall smirked. "Though perhaps not in the way that you'll imagine it."

They kept walking. "Um... Professor?" Hermione asked.

"Yes?" McGonagall asked, obviously irritated with Hermione.

"Where are we going, may I ask?" Hermione asked.

"To The Leaky Cauldron, it's a famous place, but mind you, not much of a place for us. It's more for those people who drink and loosen up, not for people with tight schedules, nor students." McGonagall explained, pointing it out. No one noticed, except for two other people. A boy about Hermione's age with un-tamable messy brown hair (sort of like Hermione's!) and a giant with wild black hair wearing a trench-coat practically _made_ of pockets. They scurried towards the Leaky Cauldron and went in, and no one seemed to notice. Almost as if they weren't there...

"Did you just see those two...?" Hermione squeaked.

"Yes." McGonagall replied, her voice short and crisp.

"How come no one else seemed to notice the two of them then professor?" Hermione questioned, her brow furrowing up in confusion.

"Muggles are blind. They can't see a thing from the wizard world." McGonagall sort-of chuckled. "And I'm sure glad of that. No offense, but muggles sure are blind when it comes to the wizard world and such."

Hermione nodded, though she was actually a tiny bit offended.

With a sigh, McGonagall lifted up the hem of her long, dark blue-green robe and pushed back her now-loose gray bun, then went inside of the Leaky Cauldron, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Hermione sighed, blinked, and followed McGonagall. "Here we are." McGonagall said, her nose wrinkled in disgust as though she smelled something stinky. "The Leaky Cauldron." Hermione noticed the brown haired boy and the giant. The giant's eyes were like tiny beetles through his shaggy hair, and the boy looked confused, his green eyes die. "Let's get out of here as soon as possible." Without another word McGonagall scurried out as though running away for her life, but probably it was for her reputation.

Hermione sighed, but she said nothing and simply followed Professor McGonagall out of the dirty, dark looking and (apparently) famous place. "We're going to go shopping now, right Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked.

McGonagall glanced briefly at her, then nodded, closing her eyes for a second too long and sighing. "Yes." She replied with a nod. "Yes, Hermione, we are going to go shopping for the things that were on the shopping list that I had given you."

Hermione nodded. "Okay!" She said cheerfully. "What are we going to buy first? Oh, we're going to buy the three plain work robes aren't we? All black? Or do we buy all the robes in the same place? Like a main clothing store, right?" She asked.

McGonagall smiled in spite of herself. "Yes. Yes, we are buying our robes all at the same place. Madame Malkin's." McGonagall explained.

Hermione smiled and nodded. "Okay then!" She said, grateful that Professor McGonagall was now in her good humor, and not muttering about "stupid muggles", a.k.a. non-magic folk being annoying, stupid and such as that. "Madame Malkin's? Is that the woman who owns the store? Is she french?" Hermione asked Professor McGonagall in a rushed way, forgetting that McGonagall might not like being asked too many questions.

McGonagall chuckled as Hermione rushed through her questions, as usual. But it couldn't exactly be helped, the teacher reflected, but chuckled as she thought so. "Yes Hermione, Madam Malkin _is_ the woman who owns the store, but it also is the name of the store where she sells the robes and such."

Hermione nodded. "Oh." She said in agreement, nodding in understanding. "I get that."

McGonagall laughed. "Of course you do. I'm great at explaining." She joked, tilting her head to the side. A strand of gray colored hair fell out from her now officially fairly loose bun and hung in the air. McGonagall didn't notice. Hermione laughed as well. McGonagall was a charming woman, and pretty nice when you were on her good side. "Now. We'd better be going." McGonagall's eyes twinkled in laughter. "Shouldn't we?"


	2. Shopping

The sky was a brilliant, bright blue with such boldness that Hermione admired it as though it were a painting. Perhaps a Picasso, or a Van Gogh. A few, light, pale, transparent clouds were littered across the sky and Hermione couldn't help but smile when she saw its beauty, with hues and shades from reflecting the tiny rays of the sun.

"Okay, so the first thing on the list is those robes." Professor McGonagall said, reading the scrawled list. She peered at Hermione. "So then, Madame Malkin will ask you for your measurements. Do you know your measurements Hermione?" McGonagall asked.

"No." Hermione replied shortly, shrugging. "I suppose that I never really had any use for them, since I just fit clothes on and saw what fit me and what didn't. I never really had put much thought into it." Hermione explained when McGonagall raised an eyebrow.

Professor McGonagall sighed, and shook her head as in disbelief. "Oh well. Madam Malkin will have to measure you then. Tsk, tsk, you could have saved so much time." But she was still smiling. McGonagall just shook her head and grabbed Hermione's arm. "Well, come on then, we haven't got all day!" She exclaimed, then giggled. "Actually, we _do_ have all day, to tell the truth."

Hermione laughed as well. "Nice one." She complimented. McGonagall bowed with a flourish, then they went on. "How far is Madam Malkin's shop anyways?" She asked.

"Madam Malkins: Robes for All Occasions, that's the full name of the store, but that's just a big mouthful to say, so everyone calls it Madam Malkin's." McGonagall explained with a chuckle. "Her shop's in Diagon Alley, but don't worry, if you get tired of walking there I suppose that I can simply use a little magic and do a little apparation…"

"Excuse me, don't mean to be rude Professor McGonagall, but what's apparition?" Hermione asked, interrupting the Professor.

Professor McGonagall looked startled. "Ah—yes—right, you're a muggle born... I keep forgetting that…" Professor McGonagall murmured, shaking her head. She looked down for a moment, muttering about muggle borns.

"Um… Professor McGonagall? You were saying?" Hermione pressed.

"Ah—right." Professor McGonagall said, her cheeks flushed a bright pink of embarrassment. "So, I was saying, that apparition is when you magic to—oh—what do muggles call it? It's sort of like that stereotype that you muggles call teleportation." The professor paused. "I think." She added.

Hermione laughed. "So you disappear out of here and end up somewhere else?" She asked.

McGonagall nodded. "Yes, that's right." She agreed.

"Okay, then that _is_ what us 'muggles' call teleportation." Hermione agreed.

McGonagall nodded, seeming a little confused but it seemed as though she agreed. "Alright than, anyways, Hermione, we should really get to Diagon alley to get to Madam Malkin's: Robes for All Occasions." She added.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, we'd better get going." She agreed. "And, don't worry Professor, I'm perfectly fine with walking. I don't need to apparate."

The professor smiled. "I sure hope you don't!" She informed Hermione with a smile. "It's illegal in the wizard world to do magic out of school until you're old enough."

Hermione laughed. "Alright then, but if I accidently do some then I didn't know about this rule!"

McGonagall laughed and pressed her finger to her lips. "My lips are sealed." She informed Hermione, pretending to lock her lips with an invisible key and throwing the key away.

Hermione smiled. "Okay, then thanks professor." She said, grinning, but both of them knew that Hermione had been joking about accidently using magic outside of the Hogwarts school. Besides, she didn't even have her wand yet!

"And we're here!" Professor McGonagall said. Hermione widened her eyes in shock. She couldn't believe it! While they were talking and walking, they had actually reached Madame Malkin's: Robes for All Occasions! "This is Madame Malkin's." McGonagall explained as they approached the shop with an old fashioned brown-gold and glass design. It had pretty "in", fashionable robes shown on mannequins at the front of the shop. "Go on in." McGonagall nudged Hermione then smirked. "She won't bite."

Hermione smirked back. "You saying that just makes it more likely." She replied, but she walked into the shop anyways. It looked sort of old, and a little shabby, but Hermione could tell that it was actually _supposed_ to look like that, old and shabby. A couple of people milled around, but not too much. A little after Hermione came in, she noticed a small, blond haired boy also about her age. He was smirking, and looked posh.

Madam Malkin was sort of short, with gray-white hair and she looked like a grandma. In fact, she probably _was_ a grandma. Madam Malkin wore a nice pinkish robe, and walked over to Hermione. "Hello deary!" She chirped in a sweet voice. "How are you?" She glanced at Professor McGonagall. "Hmm… let me guess, Hogwarts business, eh?" She asked, still smiling sweetly at Hermione.

McGonagall laughed. "That wasn't a prediction, that was a clear fact, and you can see me, clear as day!" She exclaimed.

"Ah, Minerva, how would I know that you didn't choose to adopt?" Madam Malkin asked, her eyes twinkling in laughter. Minerva! Professor McGonagall's first name was _Minerva_!

"I'm not the sort." McGonagall replied, her voice cool and steady as she smiled at the clothing maker. "And you know that for a fact."

Madam Malkin simply laughed. "Three plain work robes, all black, one black hat, and a pair of dragon hide gloves, or something at least of similar material, am I correct Minerva in this order?" Madam Malkin asked.

"Yes, that's right." Hermione jumped in, smoothing out the now slightly wrinkled piece of paper. Madam Malkin smiled.

"Ah yes dearie, afraid that we've forgotten you, aren't you?" She asked, laughing. "But you're the reason that I get your wonderful company here today! Really, these clothes _are_ for you, aren't they?" Madam Malkin asked.

Hermione simply shrugged, but she felt like laughing as well. Madam Malkin had a quirky, yet grandma-ish type of personality on her, one that made you want to laugh, and yet made you still feel perfectly comfortable. "Alright then, when do I get my clothes?" Hermione asked, taking control of the situation, quickly organizing things in her mind and making sure that she hstill had a clear head.

"Of course!" Malkin exclaimed. "Now, what is your size? I need your height, width, and if you know just how much you way that could be a little helpful as well."

McGonagall sighed, shaking her head. "No, the girl has no idea of her measurements." She replied. "I suppose that you have a measuring tape though Malkin?" She asked, as though testing the shop owner.

_Duh._ Hermione thought.

"Duh." Madam Malkin said at the same time. Hermione's hand flew to her mouth to keep in a giggle.

Minerva McGonagall shot Madam Malkin a stern look, her lips pressed together as though she were a teacher and Malkin was a student. McGonagall _was_ a teacher, though Madam Malkin was no student. Hermione was actually quite shocked when Madam Malkin clamped her mouth shut. Madam Malkin must've been at least a decade older that McGonagall! But then, both of them _were_ pretty old.

"I—I mean that—that—I mean, of course I have a measuring tape." Madam Malkin chuckled. "What kind of a clothing saleswoman would you think that I was? Not to have a measuring tape." Madam Malkin muttered under her breath as she hobbled off to a store room.

The blond haired boy that Hermione had noticed earlier walked over to her just as Professor McGonagall left to look at the dragon hid gloves, and check for their proper quality. "Hello." The blond said pleasantly, his voice polite and he stuck out his hand. Hermione shook it, and smiled brightly at him.

"Hello to you too!" She said cheerfully. "I'm Hermione Granger, and who are you?"

"I'm Draco." The boy replied, pressing his lips together. "Draco Malfoy. Perhaps you've heard of me?" He asked.

"Oh, sorry, I don't know you. Never heard of you, Draco _Malfoy_." Hermione replied. Why would she know him?

Draco's bright blue eyes flashed in anger, but to his credit, he managed to keep his composure quite well. "Oh. Well, I'm the heir to the Malfoy fortune, perhaps you've heard of my family? I'm a purebred, my whole family is you know Hermione." Malfoy said.

"Sorry." Hermione apologized. "It's just that, my parents were hu—I mean muggles, and I'm a muggle-born, or something like that. I'm the only witch in the family."

Malfoy paled even more, despite the fact that his skin was already white as parchment. "You're a muggle born?" He asked in horror, stepping away from her.

"Yes." Hermione replied, blinking. "What's wrong with that?" She asked.

"N-n-nothing." Draco stuttered. "I- uh—I just have to go to the washroom." And with that he dashed off, almost practically kicking up dust behind him in his hurry.

"I'm back dearie!" Madam Malkin called out, coming back just as the pure blood Draco Malfoy dashed off to the washroom. "And I've got the measuring tape, so don't worry about me being in my old age." Madam Malkin chuckled, then pulled out the measuring tape. "Can you stick this under your foot dearie Hermione? I just need to step on it, if that's okay with you."

"No problem at all." Hermione assured, and she stepped on the small silver tip, only she accidently sort of stepped on Madam Malkin's pale, wrinkled fingers as well.

"Ooooowwwwww!" Madam Malkin cried, with a small whimper of pain and moaned, rubbing her sagged, long fingers with her hand. They had turned a soft reddish crimson color, and Madam Malkin blinked a second too long for it to be an ordinary blink. "Oohhhh…." The old lady groaned in pain, then took out a wand, pointed it there, muttered something, and her fingers went back to looking normal. Madam Malkin smiled, as though there was no pain.

"I—I—I'm so, so sorry Madam Malkin!" Hermione squeaked out in horror.

Madam Malkin blinked, then waved her hand in a careless way, as though it had no reason to be spoken of. "Why would you be sorry dearie?" Madam Malkin asked, her eyebrows furrowed.

"It's just that—I stepped on your—doesn't it—oh—never mind." Hermione muttered.

To her surprise, Madam Malkin burst out laughing! "Oh, you needn't mind. When you're getting old like I am, you have to learn a couple of healing spells. I'm not as young as I used to be!" Madam Malkin added, her tone of voice sort of sad, wistful.

Hermione laughed. "Too bad there isn't an elixir to give you eternal youth, eh?" She asked.

Madam Malkin gave her a strange look, but said nothing, then shook her head and smiled at Hermione. "Well then, I'd like for you to step on this again, but not my fingers dearie." Madam Malkin joked. "Don't want that to happen, now do you?"

Hermione laughed. "Do you really think that I would do that?" She asked, grinning. "Okay then, I'll step on it, and don't worry Madam Malkin, I'll be more careful this time." She raised her foot, then slowly put her foot down on the ground. Madam Malkin let go and… "YEOW!" Hermione exclaimed as the little silver spot of the measuring tape snapped up and landed right on the bottom of her cheek!

"I'm so, so sorry Hermione!" Madam Malkin half exclaimed, half squealed but she was smiling, and Hermione could tell that it was obvious that the seamstress was trying really hard not to laugh out loud.

"Yes, are you okay?" Professor McGonagall asked, but she was smirking. It was also obvious that she was trying hard not to laugh.

Hermione glared. "No!" She exclaimed hotly.

"Well, at least I've got your measurements anyways Hermione, so I can go and check out what robes that I can get you, okay?" Madam Malkin asked, scurrying off. She returned with three plain, black robes, draped carefully over her right arm so that they wouldn't wrinkle. "Here are your robes, and you can go find your dragon hide gloves, and you can choose yourself. As for a hat, I've got a couple in the front. Take your choice Hermione." Madam Malkin said.

Professor McGonagall flashed a smile at Madam Malkin. "Alright then, we'll be back in a moment to pay as soon as we get to pick our choice." She informed the robe maker.

"I sure hope so." Madam Malkin replied. "Because I'm not exactly fond of shop lifters, if you know what I mean Professor."

McGonagall smiled. "I know what you mean." She replied with a thin smile. "Don't worry, we will pay for the things, because if I try to I'll go to Azkabam."

"What's Azkabam?" Hermione asked, interrupting McGonagall.

Professor McGonagall smiled crookedly at Hermione. "Azkabam." She said. "Is a place, where you will never go if you're good. It is the wizard prison, and I know that you would not want to go there. No one does. Usually being there drives people mad! And they die there." Professor McGonagall lowered her voice and her voice went dangerously low, into a dark whisper, and the way that she said it sent chills down Hermione's back. "Anyways," The professor said, her voice returning to normal. "We'd better go and see those dragon hide gloves, shouldn't we?"

"Yeah—right." Hermione replied, her mind still wandering and thinking of Azkabam.

So, they headed off to get the clothing needed for Hogwarts school.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXX

"So, that would be one galleon and three sickles, and 2 knuts alright?" Madam Malkin asked.

"Of course." Professor McGonagall said, then glanced at Hermione's wide and slightly confused eyes. "Oh—right—muggle born—I suppose that I'll have to pay for Hermione's things." Professor McGonagall said, her voice thoughtful.

"Thanks Professor McGonagall!" Hermione exclaimed, relieved, since, obviously, she had no money herself.

"Oh, then never mind, don't worry. You're one of my students after all." The professor said with a wave of her hand, then watched as Madam Malkin stuffed the robes, hat and the gloves inside of a Madam Malkin: Robes For All Occasions bag. "Hmm.. I do suppose that I'll have to give you some money." Professor McGonagall said, shaking her head. She pulled a couple of gallons, a few sickles and three knuts and gave them to Hermione.

Hermione stretched out her hands and put them in the pocket of her jeans. "Thanks Professor McGonagall." She said slowly, slightly stunned at McGonagall's generous offer.

"Alright then," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "We'd better go and buy your wand, shouldn't we?" She asked Hermione.

"Wait Professor McGonagall." Hermione said, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. "Aren't we supposed to get other things first? Like—aren't we supposed to get my course books at the book store first Professor McGonagall? Why a wand first?" Hermione asked.

Professor McGonagall smirked, then laughed out loud. "Judging from your academic records, and your library records, I believe that you would spend a little _too_ much time with your books, if I am correct."

Hermione's cheeks flushed a bright, crimson red and her forehead was tinted with a pale pink in embarrassment. "Oh—yeah—as much as I hate to say this—you're probably right Professor." She admitted.

Professor McGonagall nodded, smiling. "Then you agree that we should get your wand, cauldron, glass phials, telescope set and brass scales first and foremost before your books?" She asked.

"Yeah." Hermione agreed recently with a nod. "Fine then."

"Alright then, let's go and we'll head off to Ollivander's to buy your wand, alright Hermione?" McGonagall asked with a thin smile.

"Ollivander's? Is that the name of the shop, and the shop owner as well?" Hermione asked with her little bit of knowledge from Madam Malkins: Robes For All Occasions.

"Yes, it is, Garrick Ollivander owns the shop that sells wands. He's the very best, yes, most Hogwarts students buy from Mr. Garrick Ollivander, and therefore, so will you." Professor McGonagall said, walking forwards quickly and fast paced. Hermione struggled to catch up to her teacher. "Here we are." She said, stopping in front of a dark looking shop.

"Okay the, alright Professor McGonagall. This is Ollivanders? Where I'm going to buy my wand?" Hermione asked.

"Yep. This is Ollivanders. It might not look like it that much but it's Ollivander's, and actually most people buy from him." Professor McGonagall replied with a smile. She pushed the door, and it opened with an eerie creak from the hinges as it opened.

A wild yet reserved looking man with messy, wild white hair stepped out from behind a couple of shelves. All the shelves had little, thin, long black boxes on them, and the messy haired man smiled, and peered carefully at Hermione through his thin spectacles. "Hello." He said in a slightly deep voice. He smiled at her. "You're a little young to be here by yourself, aren't you?" He asked with a mischievous smile.

"Don't pretend you can't see me Ollivander. I'm not here for games." Professor McGonagall said.

Ollivander chuckled. "And why not, may I ask?" He questioned, still smiling, his head tilted to the side. "But you're not here to talk, you're here to shop, and buy a suitable wand for when you go to Hogwarts, correct young lady?" He asked Hermione.

"Yes, that's right." Hermione replied with a small nod.

"Alright then." Ollivander rubbed his hands together, smirking. "Let's get started, shall we?" He pulled out a small black box and handed it to Hermione. "Birch and Pegasus feather. Try it on for size." Hermione must have looked startled, and she definitely would have looked confused, because Mr. Ollivander laughed. "Wave it!" He instructed her.

"Um… alright?" Hermione replied, her voice raising so that it sounded quite a bit like a question. She flicked the wand but nothing happened. Hermione felt her heart drop. What if she wasn't really a witch? What if they had made a mistake? What if? The questions rang through her head, and Hermione struggled to keep a smile pasted on her face. Why did it matter so much to her anyways? Her life would be perfectly fine, even if she wouldn't be a witch, but something inside of her hoped desperately that she _was_ a witch.

"Hmm…. Looks like that one is _definitely_ not the one for you, but don't worry, we'll find one for you." Mr. Ollivander told Hermione confidently. "After all, it's simply a wand. You just need it to—to feel _right_. It's a wand, that, even as I made it, it will sort of just—just find you. It will be meant for you."

But what if there _wasn't_ a wand meant for Hermione? What if she were a plain old muggle? What would happen then? She'd simply _die_ of embarrassment! "Okay then." Hermione said, forcing the words out so that her voice wouldn't shake, so that she wouldn't stutter. "What's the next wand for me to sample?" She asked, forcing a smile, but it was transparent.

Mr. Ollivander laughed. "Here you go." He said, handing her another small box. "This wand is 10¾ inches, is made of vine wood, and has a dragon heartstring core. I think that you might like this one."

Hermione opened the box. Inside was one of the most beautiful things that she had ever seen. It was a creamy white-brown color, with a hint of beige tinted in it, and had pretty swirls swooshing up and around it. "It—it—it's beautiful." She gasped, taking it out of the box.

Mr. Ollivander chuckled. "Why thank you. It seems a lot like you like it, why don't you give it a little swish and a flick, and we'll see what you can do, alright?"

Hermione gave a swish and a flick, and the pencil on Mr. Ollivander's desk rolled over a bit, flew up a couple of milli-meters off the desk, then landed back with a little _thump_ and rolled back. "I like this wand." Hermione said, beaming as she ran her fingers over the beautiful, swirly, beige or brown colored wand.

Mr. Ollivander beamed. "Well, I think that we've found a proper wand for you, right Hermione?" He asked. "It seems to fit you quite well—levitating my pencil! My word, you could become great, and would be treated with respect. If only you weren't a muggle born."

Hermione glared at him with burning coals, despite the fact that he had complimented her before the insult. "And what's wrong with being a muggle born Mr. Ollivander?" She asked stiffly. "Or do I have to be a pure blood wizard in order to gain your respect?"

Mr. Ollivander stared at her, blinking for a moment, tongue tied. Then he smiled, and nodded. "You've got a lot of spunk in you, you know." He said. "And I don't even know your name."

"Hermione." Professor McGonagall offered in her short, clipped way. Hermione and Ollivander glanced at her, startled, as though they both had forgotten already that the Hogwarts teacher or professor was even there for a couple of seconds.

"Hermione." Mr. Ollivander rolled the name on the tip of his tongue, as though he were testing it on for size. He smiled at Hermione. "You have a nice name. Hermione. Anyways, you, young lady, have already earned my respect. But there are pure blood wizards, and a couple of them—oh, not a couple, actually, pretty much all pure blood wizards hate muggle borns and half bloods. They find them as—problems or trash that should be taken away and gotten rid of. That's pretty much why—let's just say the _dark ages_ was formed." Ollivander lowered his voice, then shuddered, as though he were frightened of saying something.

"Enough." Professor McGonagall cut in. "She'll fine enough learn history, and I'm sure that she'll learn it quite well. I have no doubt in her, and I believe in her as well. You needn't tell her about the horrible happenings from you know who at the time of you know when."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She felt like pulling out her hair. "For goodness sake!" She exclaimed in annoyance. "You know who? I don't know who! You know when? I don't know when! Please do tell me what is so interesting and horrible that you can't even speak of it!"

Professor Minerva McGonagall and Mr. Ollivander exchanged glances, their eyes shimmering in worry, shock, and perhaps… could it be?... a look of fear. "We can't tell you." Mr. Ollivander finally said, his voice grave. "It is too horrible to speak of. Perhaps when you get to Hogwarts, someone else may tell you about it. But we can't tell you now in this shop. There's no way to tell you without having to speak—that name." Mr. Ollivander shuddered, then suddenly smiled as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. "Now, thank you for purchasing a wand at Ollivander's! I hope to see your face again soon, when you feel in need of a new wand, or perhaps had broken this one." He chuckled, then handed the small, long, thin black box where the wand had lay only moments before Mr. Ollivander had given it to Hermione to Hermione. "Now, have a nice day!" He called out, loudly and cheerfully.

"Why the sudden mood swing?" Hermione murmured to herself. It was almost as though they were afraid to say the name! But they couldn't be… could they?

"What do you mean?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"You know what I mean." Hermione replied shortly.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "Those were dark times Hermione." She said, her voice sad. "Almost everyone lost someone precious to them. Family, friends, or perhaps one of their family or friends turned to the dark side." McGonagall shook her head. "I don't wish to speak of it, and I cannot say the name. Perhaps someone else will tell you." With that, Professor McGonagall said nothing more.

"Okay then. We're getting a wand cauldron next, right?" Hermione asked Professor McGonagall, quickly changing the subject when she saw Professor McGonagall's pinched face, the look of pain in her eyes.

The professor forced a small, thin smile. "Yes, that's right." She agreed. "Potage's Cauldron Shop. That's where we get it, of course, you'd know instantly by the name."

"Is it far from here?" Hermione asked.

Professor McGonagall slapped herself on the forehead. "I'm such an idiot!" She exclaimed, her cheeks flushing a bright pink.

"No you're not!" Hermione exclaimed, shocked. "Why on earth would you call yourself an idiot? You're a Hogwarts teacher Professor McGonagall, are you not? If you're a teacher, of course you're not an idiot!"

"No. I am an idiot!" Professor McGonagall insisted. "You see, Potage's Cauldron Shop is right next to The Leaky Cauldron! Had we gone there first, we could have saved so much time!" She exclaimed.

"Time, is something that we have a lot of." Hermione reminded Professor McGonagall, assuring her.

With a sigh, Professor McGonagall nodded. "You are right." She agreed with a sigh, but she was scurrying down the warm, breezy cobblestone street. "I do suppose that I'm a little bit uptight, but we're here."

In that short couple of seconds, they had already reached Potage's Cauldron Shop! "Wow you walk fast." Hermione said, gazing, and she stared, wide eyed in awe.

A laugh escaped the professor's lips as she walked in. There were many cauldrons inside of it. Hermione's gaze was held on a pure gold cauldron, then a purplish cauldron, then a silver one with a bronze trim. There were cauldrons of every shape and size… not to mention color!

"This place… is… amazing." Hermione said, her voice slow, her eyes wide, as she stared and admired the shop's contents.

"Yes, I suppose to a muggle born it is amazing." Professor McGonagall said, her voice tight and stiff as cardboard. Hermione's face crumpled up a little in disappointment. "Just kidding." Professor McGonagall said, laughing. "Yeah, it is pretty amazing. I'm tempted to buy all of the cauldrons, but then I'd be bankrupt."

Hermione smiled as well. "Yes, it is pretty amazing." She agreed. "I'm tempted to buy all of it, but I can't anyways!"

Of course, this made Professor McGonagall laugh as well, the edges of her lips quirked up in a little smile that made Hermione want to smile. "Of course you couldn't! Now, we have to find that size 2 pewter cauldron…" McGonagall muttered to herself, but also for Hermione's sake as they scanned the room.

"Oh! Is that it?" Hermione asked, pointing to a very plain, very small, and very black cauldron with a label underneath it that said: **PEWTER CAULDRON** and beneath it, it said: **SIZE 2**_**.**_ Hermione was quite a little disappointed. "Awn, I expected it to be more—oh, I don't know—sort of more…" She struggled for the right word, a rare occasion for Hermione. "… I don't know—flashy."

Professor McGonagall smiled, and picked up the cauldron. She went and paid the cashier, then the left the store. "What's next Hermione?" She asked, staggering slightly under the weight of the cauldron.

Hermione fumbled with her bag full of robes and now with her wand placed carefully on top, and dug into her jeans pocket for the shopping list. She pulled out a rumpled, really wrinkled piece of paper and smoothed it out slightly, putting it gently on the palm of her hand then gripping it in between both of her fingers. "Okay then, the next thing that we need to buy is a glass or crystal phials."

Professor McGonagall paused. "Just a moment." She said, setting the cauldron on the floor. She pointed her wand at it and muttered something, then it transformed into a picture of a cauldron! "That's better." She said, gingerly picking it up between both her fingers.

"Uh… you just transformed…." Hermione stuttered, her mouth dry.

"Yes, I just transformed a cauldron into a picture of one." Professor McGonagall replied dryly. "Haven't I told you? I'm the teacher for transfiguration. Anyways, what's the next thing on the list?"

"Besides the glass or crystal phial? A telescope." Hermione replied.

"Ah, we'll buy both at the same shop. We can kill two pigs with one rock, or whatever that muggle expression is."

"Kill two birds with one stone, Professor." Hermione said quickly.

"Why would you want to kill birds?" Professor McGonagall asked, puzzled. She was obviously confused. "Do you eat them or something? I understand pigs or cows, but birds make no sense." She shook her head in confusion. "Muggles, they make absolutely no sense!"

"It's just an expression." Hermione said quickly. "Anyways, you were saying? About buying both at the same shop? What shop can we buy them at?" She asked.

"Ah, yes. We can buy them at…" Unfortunately, Hermione didn't get to hear McGonagall's answer, because just then a group of teenage wizard girls came out of a shop, squealing and smiling, and laughing, and they were also obviously drunk. They were laughing about something, and talking to each other so loudly that the professor's answer was drowned out.

With a sigh (that Hermione didn't hear, but she saw the professor's lips move in irritation) Professor McGonagall led Hermione away to another shop. It read: **WISEACRE'S WIZARDING EQUIPMENT**. "This is where we'll buy my stuff?" Hermione asked. Unlike the other shops, this one looked amazing, and stunning. It had a mysterious look to it, but it also showed flashy, cool items in the window, but not in a cluttered way, in a neat, I want that kind of way.

"Yes. Wiseascre's Wizarding Equipment." Professor McGonagall said. "Let's go in."

The inside was just as impressive and cool as the outside. In no time at all, they had found the glass phials and the telescope. They purchased it and scurried back out to Diagon Alley. "Wow, this place is like a shopping mall!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yes, it is." Professor McGonagall agreed, but Hermione could tell that she wanted to ask what a shopping mall was.

"Anyways, your next stop is to buy you some brass scales, am I correct Hermione?" Professor McGonagall asked, taking the wrinkled shopping list from Hermione and peering closely at its scrawled handwriting.

"Well, you're the one with the shopping list Professor, how am I to know?" Hermione replied, smirking as she adjusted the shopping bag, slinging it over her shoulder to keep balance. "So, where are we going to buy brass scales? A dragon shop?" Hermione asked.

"Don't be silly!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed. "We're going to buy the brass scales at **SLUGGS AND JIGGERS APOTHECARY**, and it's not too far, so I hope that you haven't been walking too much for your legs."

Hermione shook her head. "No, my legs are fine." She replied. They walked into the store, and instantly Hermione started clawing at her nose. "It stinks." She said. Her voice sounded funny, because she was pinching her nose.

"Yes, it does, doesn't it." Professor McGonagall said, her nose slightly wrinkling, but she managed to keep her composure.

"It smells like eggs gone bad, like a year over it's due date and rotten cabbage!" Hermione exclaimed indigently.

"Yes. I know that it does. You don't need to tell me Hermione." Professor McGonagall replied, then finally gave in and pinched her nose as well.

The shop itself was quite fascinating, despite how it made one wish desperately to claw of their nose so that they couldn't smell it's stink. It had barrels of some sort of gross, slimy looking gooey stuff on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and some sorts of bright, colorful powders put neatly on the shelves. It had bundles of feathers, fangs hung on strings and snarled claws hung from the low ceiling. There were silver unicorn horns, twenty one Galleons for each of them, glittery black beetle eyes that were worth only five knuts a scoop and (to Hermione's utter and complete disgust) dragon liver, which was worth seventeen sickles an ounce.

"Now, let's get the stuff and go!" Hermione made a mad dash for the scales, but accidently slipped on some goo and fell back hard onto the ground. "Ouch. That hurt a lot." Hermione moaned, wrinkling her nose as she stopped pinching her nose. She made her way to the rainbow style shelf with dragon and brass and silver and all sort of scales on it, then grabbed some brass scales then made a mad dash to the cash register.

"Now, since you paid me with three sickles and…"

"Keep the change!" Hermione exclaimed, then she grabbed the scales, shoved them on top of her wand, and she and McGonagall dashed out of the shop with as much speed as they could muster.

"Okay," Professor McGonagall said, gasping for the fresh, sweet smelling air. "Perhaps we might have over reacted a little about the smell and such Hermione, don't you think so?"

Hermione shot a look at Professor McGonagall, like "Are you serious?". "Okay, seriously professor?" Hermione exclaimed.

"You're right." Professor McGonagall replied, giggling.

They walked as they talked, and Hermione noticed two identical looking red headed boys with their faces pressed up against the glass of a shop named **MAGICAL MENAGERIE**. "Oh, I wish that we could buy an owl." The boy on the left said wistfully.

"But we can't afford one Fred, you know that. Mom and dad work hard enough already, we can't have an owl! Though Percy the perfect probably will get one when he gets to be a prefect." The boy of the right replied, rolling his eyes.

"Where is the book shop going to be?" Hermione asked Professor McGonagall.

"Right here." McGonagall replied, stopping in front of a bookshop. It was called **FLOURISH AND BLOTTS**. Hermione instantly fell in love with it as they walked into the wizard world book store. It had shelves and shelves of books, beckoning her, whispering, _Read me, read me Hermione._

Hermione instantly walked towards the books, mesmerized, her eyes wide as she stared at the rows and rows of books. "I have fallen in love." Hermione whispered. "With a book store!" Her hand reached out and traced the edges of the spines of the books, lingering and tracing the words with her fingers. "This place is amazing." She whispered.

McGonagall chuckled. "I figured that you would." She replied, smiling. "After all, a bookworm like yourself couldn't possibly resist, could you?" She asked. "Alright then, the first book that we need is _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), by Miranda Goshawk_. Got it?"

"Yes, I've got it." Hermione replied, immediately scanning the rows for the book.

"Well… come to think of it, I do remember **FLOURISH AND BLOTTS** having some HOGWARTS packages, for first years." McGonagall said.

Hermione sighed. "Okay then." She said, and they went to the cashier. She handed them a small package and smiled brightly at them, revealing sparkling white teeth, so white that she could have been in some sort of toothpaste commercial.

"Now, if you would like to, when you buy the Hogwarts 1st year book kit, you can also buy _Hogwarts: A History_ for a 50% discount!" She exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

"Hermione, would you like to get _Hogwarts: A History_ at its discount?" Professor McGonagall asked Hermione.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Hermione exclaimed, also excited.

"Alright then, that would be 2 galleons and 3 knuts please." The cashier said pleasantly, holding out her hand for the money.

"Professor, do you want me to pay with my money?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"No, think of it as part of your scholarship." Professor McGonagall replied, paying the cashier.

"Thanks professor McGonagall!" Hermione exclaimed.

McGonagall simply shrugged, and paid the woman working behind the cash register. "And here you go!" Cash register woman said, handing the package of neatly tied books to Hermione in a small bag with **FLOURISH AND BLOTTS** written on it, in a fancy way. Hermione slung it over her right shoulder, so that she was nicely balanced.

"If you would like to read one of your books, go ahead. Just don't read too far, or else you'll know all of your lessons before they have even started." McGonagall told Hermione, who nodded.

"Alright, then I'll read _Hogwarts: A History_." She replied, sitting down on the carpeted floor and opened _Hogwarts: A History_.

_CHAPTER 1: THE BUILDERS_

_Hogwarts was built in 990 A.D. by four friends, two wizards and two witches. Their names are now what the Hogwarts team houses are called, each with the most traits related to these four builders. Godric Gryffindor, who owned the sorting hat that will sort students into their houses, was brave and courageous. Helga Hufflepuff, was loyal to her friends and unafraid of toil. Rowena Ravenclaw, was the smartest of the group, and always had been the brains. Last but not least was Salazar Slytherin, who would do anything to get what he wanted. Unfortunately, he and his friends had a disagreement. Salazar argued with his friends that they should admit pure bloods into Hogwarts, and pure bloods only. His three friends disagreed, and in anger, Slytherin left. But, before he left, the traitorous Salazar Slytherin built a secret Chamber, the Chamber of Secrets. When the true heir of Slytherin would return to Hogwarts school, she (or he) would be able to open this mysterious chamber, and unleash the basilisk to rid the school of all muggle born and half blood students._

Hermione shivered as she read though haunting words. _Rid the school of all muggle born wizards and witches. How barbaric!_ She thought, and closed her eyes. That was quite frightening, but she re-opened the book and continued reading it. Then she finished the horrible chapter and was on

_CHAPTER 2: THE BUILDING'S CHARMS AND ENCHANTMENTS_

_In the banquet hall of Hogwarts school, there is the ceiling of course. The ceiling is charmed to look like the sky, and it may change whatever the occasion or weather by the current headmaster of the school. It's enchanted well, and cam change to the night sky at supper, or a rain storm at Halloween. On Christmas, it may turn to a snow storm, a blizzard, or perhaps simply the night sky…_

Okay, Hermione was hooked. She continued reading, and couldn't stop.

"Hermione!" Professor McGonagall called just as she finished the long 2nd chapter. "It's almost your supper time. We should head back."


	3. The Fight

Hermione took a deep breath as they approached Hermione's house. "Well Professor McGonagall, this has been fun." She said, shaking her future teacher's hand. "I'm really grateful that you were here with me when I got my letter and such, or else I would be totally lost."

"No problem." Professor McGonagall replied with a smile. "That's what teachers are for, to help you, right?" She asked.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah. That's right." She replied. She stepped forwards and hugged the professor. Professor McGonagall stiffened, as though shocked, but returned the hug. "Well… see you when I get to Hogwarts." Hermione said.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Right, I forgot." She handed Hermione a small, rumpled train ticket. It was a purplish white color, and had PLATFORM 9¾ on it. "Go to the Arvati's train station at 10:00a.m. sharp, then go to Platform 9¾ and then you'll be at Hogwarts express. Got it Hermione?" She asked.

Hermione blinked. "B-b-but… there's no such thing as Platform 9 and ¾ Professor McGonagall." She replied, stammering, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Professor McGonagall laughed. "No such thing, is there?" She asked, smiling. Her voice was short, crisp and amused. "Well then you may as well tell that to all the students who have graduated Hogwarts and have said to have boarded the Hogwarts express in order to get to that school, shouldn't you then?" She asked.

Hermione blushed, her cheeks the fierce color of a crimson, ripe red cherry. "Oh—it's just that—oh—well—um—" She stuttered, blushing in embarrassment. "Anyways, so how do I get to this Platform 9 and ¾?" She asked.

"Well, you go to the so called "wall" in between platforms 9 and 10, (it's actually and illusion, you know) and you run right through it! Then you'll be there, at Platform 9 and ¾ alright Hermione?" McGonagall explained.

"Oh, okay then." Hermione replied with a slight nod. She pocketed the Platform 9 and ¾ train ticket and smiled at Professor McGonagall. "Thanks for everything." She said.

"No problem." Professor McGonagall replied shortly.

Hermione smiled, then turned and ran up her porch steps, then opened the door. Unfortunately, it was locked. Hermione sighed, then pressed her finger and ran the doorbell. _Ding dong!_ The doorbell shrieked. Hermione peered inside, and saw her mom, still wearing her apron, scurrying to answer the door.

Hermione's mom opened the door, looking refreshed as though she had just taken a nap. "Hello Hermione!" Mrs. Granger said, then smiled at Professor McGonagall. "Thank you for taking her for the day, and thank you also for delivering her back home safe and sound."

McGonagall nodded. "No need to thank me." She replied. "It's part of my job, and your daughter's quite the little bookworm, if I may say so myself. She seems to really like books, was so happy when we finally got to the book store." She chuckled. "She's pretty smart too, but I won't say anymore, I don't want to give Hermione a big head. Good night!" And Professor McGonagall was off.

"Now, I was just making some spaghetti and meatballs, with your favorite cheese spaghetti sauce, with some brig leaves, okay?" Mrs. Granger was really creative in her cooking, and if you put her in the kitchen she was simply _amazing_.

"Yumm." Hermione exclaimed, and then her mind flitted to Hogwarts. What type of food would she eat there? _Ugh, I hope it isn't insects or something like that. Wait… don't stereotype Hermione! For goodness sake!_ But seriously, what _would_ she eat there at Hogwarts? "Well, I'm going to be in my room if you need me, okay mom?" She asked.

Her mom smiled, and then kissed her on top of the head in that embarrassing way, yet Hermione loved it when her mom did that. "Of course you can Hermione." Her mom whispered, tickling her ear. "Just don't go too long. I'm going to miss you an awful lot when you're living at Hogwarts."

Just then, Hermione realized that she would be living at Hogwarts, away from her home. It felt like someone had knocked the breath out of her and she dashed up the stairs. She would certainly miss her mom, after all, why wouldn't she? Hermione dreaded when she would have to leave for Hogwarts. She had been so excited but… now… she was wondering. "No." Hermione whispered to herself, shaking her head. "Just clear your head, and read!" She told herself. "I can bother to think about these things."

_CHAPTER 3: GIRLS DORM_

_The girls dorm has a set of stairs, all on the other side of the common rooms of each house. It's on the opposite side of the boy's dorm, and has a set of stairs that is enchanted to turn into a slide when a boy tries to go inside the girl's dorm…_

Hermione found the girl's dorm quite interesting, and it had to be, as she was going to live there for the rest of her school year. She continued reading, laying on her bed, her elbows propped onto her pillow, her chin resting on her hands. The Girls Dorm chapter was short, if not sweet, and there was a second part, the boy's dorm, but Hermione wasn't quite so interested in reading _that_. She went on to chapter 4, and Hermione just couldn't stop reading on the interesting and amazing enchantments and charms of the school. She simply couldn't stop reading the book, the history and its charms were all just too amazing.

Soon, in about half an hour Hermione had finished reading _Hogwarts: A History_ and the amazing contents of the book. Hermione leaned back and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. It was a very good book, despite the fact that it was a non-fiction book, it was still very well written. "Who wrote this book again?" She wondered to herself. Hermione quickly shut the book, and then she glanced at its cover. The cover was a deep plume red, and the book had a pretty golden trim design. But that wasn't what Hermione was looking for. Her eyes scanned down. _This Book Is Written By: Bathilda Bagshot_. Was written at the bottom of the book in a tiny, curly, fancy and swirly hand writing.

"She's such a talented writer." Hermione murmured to herself. She re-opened the book, a thin smile on her lips. She was going to re-read it. It was such a good book!

…A couple of minutes, or an hour or two later, Hermione yawned. She lay on her back, closing her eyes… and went to sleep. Her finger was still in between the pages of the groups.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXX

"Wake up Hermione!" Hermione blinked open her eyes to see her mother leaning over her.

"Yes, what's up mom?" Hermione grumbled, rubbing sleep out of her eyes as she opened them.

"It's your last day of school at your current school, remember?" Her mother asked.

"Oh. Right." Hermione muttered. "Can't I just sleep in?" She asked, putting a pillow over her head.

"Hermione! I'm surprised at you! In fact, I'm shocked! You love school!" Hermione's mother exclaimed.

"I know… it's just that… I don't want to see what I'm going to have to leave, so that I can go to Hogwarts." Hermione replied sadly, looking past her mother, at the blank, white wall. "I just realized that… when I'm going to Hogwarts… I won't be able to hang out with all my friends anymore."

Her mother said nothing. Because she knew that it was true. "I'm sorry Hermione." She said softly. "But you're still going to have to go to school today."

Hermione nodded, then got of her bed, then went to change. Her mother left the room to leave Hermione to change. Hermione put on the jeans that she had worn the day before, her fingers rubbing the purplish creamy train ticket, and she wore a bright, crimson red shirt and her she left her room, then skipped down the stairs.

"Okay ma, what's for breakfast?" She asked, skipping down the stairs two at a time. She smelled something sweet and buttery waft up the stairs, and Hermione closed her eyes. She could have sworn that she smelled blueberries.

Hermione's mother came out from the kitchen and smiled at Hermione. Her skin was pale and dusted with flour, and her eyes sparkled brightly in excitement.

"Well…" Her mother replied, her voice slow and deliberate, and she smiled brightly at Hermione. "I know that this is the last day before the rest of your life. It's like, throw away the old, and get the newer, better thing. So, I went ahead and made some blueberry pancakes with white flour and icing sugar instead of normal sugar. Also, I stacked them,, but with butter in between them and _then_ poured syrup over it. It tastes way better that way, you know."

Hermione smiled back at her mom, the edges of her lips quirked up in a quick smile. "Thanks ma. I'm glad that you did this." She took the plate, and then she dug in. She stuck her fork in, and then ate it quickly gobbling it up. "Mmm." Was all she could say, closing her eyes and enjoying the heavenly goodness. Hermione's mom was simply _brilliant_. "This is delicious mom!" She exclaimed when she had swallowed her bite.

Hermione's mom smiled back at her, then kissed her on the cheek. "I know Hermione." She replied, smirking. "But you telling me that is just fine."

Hermione laughed. She had forgotten the good times that she had with her mom. "I'll walk to school today then, okay mom?" Hermione asked when she had finished.

"Yes, of course. Go ahead honey." Mrs. Granger replied, managing a smile as she continued to grill a pancake. There was a small sizzling sound as the oil wrapped itself around the batter, and the edges turned into a solid form. Mrs. Granger flipped it with her spatula.

Hermione walked over to the front, than sat down on the chair that her mom had put there when she and Hermione's father and had put there when she first bought the house. It was when they had just married each other. Hermione sat down on the chair, then leaned forwards and she quickly tied her shoelace, looping one lace over the other to create a neat little butterfly knot, but just so that she wouldn't have to trip over her shoelace.

"Bye mom!" She called as she left.

"Bye honey." Her mom replied, but Hermione was already outside and had shut the door. It closed with a tiny little _thump boom._ Hermione took a deep breath, smelling the sweet air. The flowers were starting to disappear, but their fragrance still hung in the cool autumn air. At the corner of her eyes Hermione saw a huge hornet resting on the long, floppy petal of a pinkish colored flower.

The breeze was soft and cool, and the sun's rays were rushing down so hard that Hermione felt like she could reach out and grab a piece of the warmth that was beating down on her cheeks. "If only I didn't hate flying so much." She murmured to herself. "Then I would fly up, and whisper to the clouds, and touch the rays of the sun." With a sigh, she continued walking, her feet crunching on the gravel road.

Just then, she reached the bottom of the hill and stepped up the hill, one foot ahead of the other. _The academic club!_ Hermione thought, her eyes widening. _I hope that I'm not going to disappoint the academic club when I tell them that… what _am_ I going to tell them? That I'm going to a school of witchery and witchcraft? They'll think I'm crazy! No… I'll just tell them that I'm transferring to another school._ That way, Hermione wouldn't be lying either.

Just as her line of thought disappeared, Hermione reached the top of the hill and her eyes scanned the crowds of kids. Where was Melissa? Just then, she spotted Melissa, her bright, dark brown eyes and her pitch black hair. Hermione rushed up to her. "Hey! Melissa!" She called out when she neared, but Melissa simply smiled at the person that she was conversing with, waved goodbye, and left. "I bet that she didn't hear me." Hermione muttered to herself. "Ugh, that's so annoying." But then the bell rang, and Hermione scurried to line up with everyone else.

"Hey Hermione, what's up?" Daniel, another one of Hermione's academic teammates asked Hermione, tapping her shoulder and waving hello.

"Oh… it's just you. Hello Daniel." Hermione replied, forcing a smile.

Daniel peered at Hermione closely. "Is something wrong, Hermione?" He asked her, looking worried.

Hermione laughed. "No Daniel, nothing's wrong." She replied, lying. "It's just that I have to talk to Melissa about something, that's all."

Daniel nodded as though he understood. "Oh, right. It's about the meeting, right?" He asked.

Technically it was. If she went to Hogwarts, you _would_ have to miss the meeting, not that she needed to go, even if Hogwarts _didn't_ prevent her from going to the meeting. She'd be at Hogwarts anyways, by the time that the competition would take place. "Um… yeah. It's about the meeting… I mean… sort of, it's about the meeting in a roundabout way." Hermione replied quickly, stuttering nervously. Hermione had trouble lying. She'd have to work on that.

Daniel nodded in satisfaction. "Well, do you want me to tell her? I could save you the trouble." He told her. Daniel was in the same class as Melissa, so he could easily pass on a message to her.

Hermione shook her head. No, it would be too complicated to let Daniel pass on the message to Melissa. She would have to do it herself. "No, I'm sorry Daniel. It's a bit complicated… and I'm not sure what I'm going to say to Melissa even, so I'll have to tell her myself. But thanks for the offer… that was really sweet of you."

Daniel blushed a deep crimson. "Uh… it's just that, you know, we're on the academic team together, so we've got to help each other out, you know? So I thought, if I helped you, it would sort of be like me helping the academic team. You know… one for all and all for one, like the Three Musketeers."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, the Three Musketeers was a classic." She replied with a small dip of her head. "I suppose that I can't argue with your reasoning anyways."

Just then, the bell rang and one of the teachers opened the doors. Hermione dashed in, grateful for the distraction. "Good morning Mrs. Jessica." She said, reading the tag. Mrs. Jessica was either a new teacher or a substitute. Hermione knew all of her school's teachers, and she had never met Mrs. Jessica before.

"Good morning." Mrs. Jessica replied warmly, tucking back a strand of neatly done bright blond hair. She looked young, not much older than her late twenties or early thirties. "Are you in Mr. Simmons' class?" Mrs. Jessica asked Hermione quickly, as Hermione turned to leave.

"Well… yes. I am. Why do you ask?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Well… um…. I'm the substitute for Mr. Simmons for the next week. He's taking a trip to London, England, or something like that…. And…. I sort of forgot how to get there."

Hermione laughed. "Don't worry, Mrs. Jessica. I'll help you find your way there… although it is sort of surprising that you don't know where the classroom is."

Mrs. Jessica looked relieve, but her cheeks were beet red in embarrassment. "Well it was short notice." She defended herself. "I just got here this morning."

Hermione smiled. "That's okay Mrs. Jessica, don't worry, I'll help you find the way to our classroom, though it _is_ pretty easy to find it." She replied. They waited for everyone else to go upstairs, and then they went up themselves to the classroom.

Outside the classroom Mrs. Jessica stopped, and smiled at Hermione. "Thanks for helping me find my way to the classroom… er… what was your name again?" Mrs. Jessica asked, peering closely at Hermione.

"Hermione." Hermione replied quickly. "My name's Hermione. You don't need to feel bad, I didn't even tell you my name, so how were you to know? Besides, it was no big deal."

Mrs. Jessica nodded, then straightened up and tilted her chin up to the sky. "Right then." She replied with a curt nod. She smoothed down her short, knee length bright blue skirt and then smoothed down her white, button up shirt-vest as well. Mrs. Jessica's bright green eyes flashed, and somehow she looked older, stronger and smarter. "We'd better get to class, shouldn't we?"

They stepped into the class, and Hermione rushed over to her desk, sitting down quickly. Mrs. Jessica walked up to the front of the class, and smiled at her students. "Hello class!" Mrs. Jessica said cheerfully. "My name is Mrs. Jessica, and I'm your new substitute teacher. Mr. Simmons is taking a little vacation so that he can have a little rest, and get rid of all the stress. Poor man. Now, I would like you all to pull out your math textbooks…"

Hermione didn't hear Mrs. Jessica. She had already started reading her textbook, storing each piece of information carefully in the back of her mind. _Addition, subtraction and all that… I already know it._ Hermione thought to herself, but her mind was still on Hogwarts.

_I hope that I won't be too much behind in the classes… I mean, these people probably know more than I will in the classes… since they grew up like that, you know._

"Hermione. Hermione!" Mrs. Jessica slapped her hand on Hermione's back and Hermione drew back, startled. "Pay attention." Mrs. Jessica ordered, narrowing her eyes. "Don't think that I'll cut you some slack, or that this won't go on your academic record, just because I'm a substitute teacher, because it is unless you start paying attention."

Hermione's eyes widened, shocked. This was bad. Mrs. Jessica thought that she was slacking! Disrespecting! Hermione's cheeks flushed a bright, hot pink red color, one of crimson. "I'm sorry." She mumbled under her breath, or something of the sort. She was too embarrassed to say anything about it.

"Just make sure it doesn't happen again." Mrs. Jessica replied, her voice short and crisp. She pressed her lips together, and shook her head, then muttered something under her breath about disrespect, and children these days needing to respect their elders.

_Like she should talk!_ Hermione thought to herself, annoying and angry at Mrs. Jessica. _I mean, how old is she? She looks like she just graduated, and none too soon either!_ Hermione's almond brown eyes widened in slight shock. She usually never got angry. That was odd. _Stop thinking about it_. Hermione thought to herself, and she _did_ stop thinking about it.

"Now, as I was saying…" Mrs. Jessica's voice droned on…

Hermione wasn't _really_ trying to drone Mrs. Jessica out. Really, she wasn't! It was simply that she was fuming too much to hear anything that Mrs. Jessica was saying. Hermione waited a while, but then Mrs. Jessica started to ask a question.

"Hermione? Why don't you answer the question for me?" Mrs. Jessica's face loomed into Hermione's point of view. Hermione blinked in shock. She hadn't heard anything!

Alarmed, Hermione started stuttering. "Uh—uh—uh—what was the question?" She asked, blinking quickly.

Mrs. Jessica pressed her lips together again in the eye rolling, head shaking, disapproving way but she said nothing of it. "I asked, in 3847, what decimal number is 8 in?"

It was such a simple question that Hermione almost laughed out loud. But then, she _was_ in 6th grade, right? "The decimal number is in the hundred's group." Hermione replied smoothly.

Mrs. Jessica smiled thinly. "Thank you, for answering the question, even though I would have _preferred_ to have your attention on me, Ms. Granger. Watch that I don't ask you for your attention again, or the consequences will be extremely unfortunate for you."

Hermione bit her lip, and nodded meekly. She clenched her fists at her sides, but then cooled down and cleared her head._ Well, now that I'm cooled down,_ _I just have to think of what to say to Melissa._ Unfortunately for Hermione, there was probably no right way to break the news to the Academic Team's captain.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hermione scurried out of class. For once in her lifetime, she was tired and extremely exhausted after a class. The school bell had rung, and school was officially over. Now was Hermione's last and only chance to find Melissa, and tell her the news, that she was… going to a new school.

_But that's all you can say._ Hermione reminded herself, closing her eyes shut for a moment. Shaking her head, and letting out a cool, deep, slow breath, Hermione scanned the groups of kids for Melissa. At last she saw her, and ran up to her. "Hey! Melissa!" She called out loudly, running up to the 10 year old.

Melissa turned around and grinned at Hermione. "Hey Hermione, what's up?" She asked smoothly, happily.

_She won't be this happy after I tell her the news._ Hermione thought miserably to herself, but bit her tongue to keep from saying that out loud. "Well… you see…" Hermione stuttered.

Melissa smiled and laughed. "Yeah?" She asked her voice warm and welcoming. It beckoned for Hermione to spit out the truth, no matter what Melissa would think of it.

"It's…. uh… it's about the… uh… the _meeting_!" Hermione stuttered, exclaiming the last part, her tongue dry.

Melissa nodded. "Yeah, what about the meeting?" She asked. "Aren't you excited for it, Hermione?" She asked, giggling.

"Yeah… that's just it." Hermione replied, avoiding Melissa's bright, shining black eyes. "The fact is… what I came to say is… that I can't make it to the meeting."

"WHAT!?" Melissa roared, her dark eyes wide, flashing in pure hatred and anger. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T MAKE IT TO THE MEETING!?" She screeched.

"I'm… uh… moving to a new school." Hermione said, staring at the tips of her shoelaces. She didn't dare to look the younger girl in the eye. "I can't make it." Her voice was now a whisper, tinted with fear of what Melissa might think of her right now. "I'm sorry." She felt like a little girl, shocked and embarrassed by her own words.

To Hermione's surprise, after a moment, Melissa _laughed_. She laughed! "That's okay!" Melissa replied, false cheerfulness evident in her voice. "It's not like the academics _liked_ you Hermione. You're not even good at academics."

Hermione flinched. That was cruel, but not too cruel. But to Hermione, academics were really important. Where was Melissa going with this?

"You know, it's not even like we actually _liked_ you, Hermione." Melissa continued, an evil smile spreading across her face. Melissa had a way with words that made you believe what she said… she could make you feel guilty, in pain, or happy. Melissa was a word twister. "You were hopeless at everything though. You weren't smart, and you weren't pretty. You weren't nice, and you couldn't get people to like you. You're too bossy, and you don't pay attention. You were just the charity girl, so good riddance."

Hermione felt like crying. Tears welled up in her eyes, and the horrible words stung as though Melissa had struck her across the face. "Well, what should you know about that!?" Hermione screamed back. She was too hurt, too angry to care about anything. All she could think about was letting Melissa know just how Hermione had felt when she had said those painful, stab-in-the-back words. "You're just a kid. People look at you and say: 'A genius? More like a stupid toddler with luck.' That's what everyone says about _you_. You're only friends are on the academic team, and that's just to butter you up to help them."

Hermione smirked in triumph as she saw the color drain from Melissa's face, the hurt in her eyes, the way that her body shook in anger and horror.

"Yeah, that's right, Melissa. The truth hurts, doesn't it?" Hermione asked.

"You don't know anything!" Melissa screeched. "You're just trying to make yourself feel better. Even in your very own head, you think what other people think. You're ugly, stupid, dumb, all those things. You have absolutely no confidence at all, and you're just plain _annoying_!"

In anger, Hermione leaped forwards and slapped Melissa, straight across the face. A small red welt blossomed on her cheek, and Melissa touched in, her eyes widened in shock and fury. "I… cannot… believe… you… just… did… that…" Melissa said, her voice was slow and deliberate, but you could still tell that she was shaken up by it.

Hermione stood still as stone. "I can't either." She whispered. It was a slow moment, seconds like hours, ticking on the clock. It was as though time were standing still.

Melissa looked like she was amazed, her eyebrows furrowed in anger and total shock. She looked speechless for a moment, and there was utter silence. It almost drove Hermione crazy, and she still couldn't believe what she had just done.

"I'm so sorry." Hermione said, her voice breaking into the deadly silence.

"That's not okay." Melissa growled. She punched Hermione in the arm.

"Ow!" Hermione exclaimed, rubbing her arm in shock. _How mean can a ten year old get?_ She wondered to herself. But then, how mean could an offended eleven year old get as well? Hermione stepped forwards and punched Melissa right back on the arm.

"Hey!" Melissa exclaimed, rubbing her arm as well, but she wasn't _too_ shocked.

That's when they started just punching. Back and forth, back and forth, without a moment to think.

Finally, Hermione and Melissa collapsed the ground. "I… surrender…" Melissa panted.

"Ha…" Hermione said, trying to sound indignant but she was panting and out of breath as well. They had chased, screamed, insulted and punched, but now, they were both totally wiped out and worn out. "See… I… always… win…"

Melissa crawled forwards and half-heartedly punched Hermione on the arm. She smirked. "I'm getting the last word."

Hermione glanced at the big black clock behind Melissa's head and leaped up. It was six o'clock, which in the Granger household, meant dinner time. "And I won't argue with you. I've got to go." She glanced quickly at the dark haired Asian girl. "We'll finish this argument some other time, okay Melissa?"

Melissa simply nodded, then glared after Hermione as the brown haired girl left. Without meaning to, Hermione had actually tricked Melissa and the witch had said the last word herself. "HEY!" Melissa yelled after Hermione. "I WANTED TO GET THE LAST WORD!" She screamed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Where were you?" Mrs. Granger screeched at Hermione, her almond brown eyes wider than flat disks. She was practically pulling out her frizzy brown hair, and if she got any madder Hermione wouldn't have been surprised to see smoke come out from her ears.

"I was talking with Melissa." Hermione replied, her voice slow and deliberate as though speaking to a child. "You know, I'm going to Hogwarts so I just had to tell Melissa that… I was transferring to another school. That's all." Hermione said quickly, rushing to the "That's all" part.

"Oh, really? And it took_ that_ long?" Mrs. Granger said, a hand placed on her hip, trying hard to look stern but she was really failing at it.

"Um… yeah." Hermione replied quickly. "We had to discuss some… er… _issues_." _Issues are right!_ She thought to herself._ Melissa sure had an issue with me pulling this on her. But I really had no choice… did I_? Perhaps she _did_ have a choice, she just didn't want to admit that fact.

"Okay then. Now, come on in and wash your hands. Then I want you to get to the table, or else your supper will certainly get cold, okay Hermione?" Mrs. Granger asked, but guessing by the tone of her voice it was more of a teasing, but firm order.

"Alright then." Hermione replied. She smiled, and rubbed her hand behind her head in a slight, wavering embarrassment. "Again, I'm really sorry about being late."

Mrs. Granger simply laughed. "Oh, that's okay, Hermione. Don't worry about it, it's perfectly fine. It's just that my mom senses were seriously twitching if you know what I mean. Oh dear, you're cheeks are red. You were almost sunburned!"

Hermione's cheeks flushed an even brighter pink in further embarrassment. "Uh… yeah…. I was almost sunburned…" She muttered under her breath, slightly shocked. She just hoped that her parents would never find out about the fight between herself and Melissa. "Well… I'd better get going and eat my dinner then, if I don't want it to get cold." Hermione said quickly, searching desperately for a way to escape.

"Oh, right." Mrs. Granger said, nodding. She smiled warmly at her young 11 year old daughter. "I hope that you're not taking the move _too_ hard. Well, I'm glad that you're friends are all so understanding, though of course, you can't exactly tell them the full details." Then the young mother turned and walked up the stairs.

"Less understanding than you will ever think, or know." Hermione replied, her reply barely a murmur under her breath, and Hermione was almost stifling a laugh. Hermione shoved her hands in her pockets and kept walking into the kitchen then sat down and started to eat. Oh, they had spaghetti. Hermione grinned, and then stuck her fork in the spaghetti sauce covered noodles.

As she ate, the witch thought. _I hope that nobody finds out about the fight between me and Melissa._ She thought to herself, her hand slightly trembling. She'd be in a load of trouble. _No… they won't find out._ She thought to herself, momentarily closing her eyes. _From now on, I've just got to be cool. If I get upset I guess I'll just cry over the toilet like every other human being in the world._ Hermione smiled slightly at this line of thought.

Pretty soon, she had finished her dinner and Hermione leaned back, and then closed her chocolate brown eyes, deep in thought. Worry ran through her head like a stream of water running down the river. _What if I don't know any spells but everyone else does? What if I'm the most stupid person there?_ A lot of what-ifs rushed through her head. _You just need to calm down._ Hermione let out a calm, deep breath slowly. "Alright." She told herself. "I'll just ask McGonagall the questions when she comes back. I'll be perfectly fine, as long as I'm ready for her.

But the dark haired girl still didn't sleep that well that night.


	4. Lost Toad

Beams of sunlight peeked through the cracks in Hermione's curtains, and she yawned, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Hermione got out and quickly changed into her clothes, then widened her eyes. _Today I go to Hogwarts!_ She thought to herself in excitement and fear. Hermione raced down the stairs, then quickly poured herself some cereal and added in the milk. Shoving a spoon into the cereal, Hermione forced herself to eat but she had butterflies in her stomach. No, that was probably an understatement. She had a stampeding herd of cattle in her stomach, she was so nervous.

Hermione closed her eyes momentarily, but quickly opened them again as she walked down the staircase, afraid that she might trip or do something stupid like that. Who knew what might have happened, had she closed her eyes.

"Good morning Hermione!" Her mom chirped as she walked into the kitchen and started the coffee-maker. The familiar sound of churning coffee beans comforted Hermione, but just barely.

"Morning mom!" Hermione replied, though she found that her voice was slightly forced to sound falsely cheerful.

"Are you excited!?" Her mom asked, smiling widely to reveal her shiny white teeth. When you had a profession of being a dentist, you tended to be expected to have those pearly whites that you want everyone else to get as well. "I just mean, today's the day that you're going to Hogwarts, school for Wizardry and Witchcraft."

"Yeah." Hermione replied, her voice weak. "I can hardly wait." She pushed away all the thoughts and worries that she would be way behind in her studies and instead pushed on a confident smile. _No big deal._ She told herself with a slight grin.

Just then, there was a rapping knock on the door.

"Oh, that must be Professor McGonagall!" Hermione's mom said, smiling as she got up to answer the door. She opened the door, and sure enough, the transformation professor was standing right there at the doorway, smiling thinly.

"Hello Hermione, or have you forgotten that today we're going to Hogwarts?" Professor McGonagall asked, smiling slightly to show that she was making a joke. Hermione was slightly shocked. She had always thought that Professor McGonagall wasn't quite the type to make jokes, but then, how would she know?

Hermione smiled back. "No, I haven't forgotten." She replied. "It was just that… I didn't really know that you'd come so soon."

Professor McGonagall laughed. "Don't worry I'm not going to send you off to Hogwarts right _now_!" She said, laughing. "But I thought that you'd like a couple of books to help you learn about wizardry and such." The transformation professor handed the dark haired girl a few books.

"Oh, thanks!" Hermione exclaimed. "I suppose that I would need something to do on the train, so I can read there as well if I don't finish up here."

Mrs. Granger shifted slightly, obviously uncomfortable. "Well, um… would you like anything Professor McGonagall? Perhaps a cup of coffee… ("What's coffee?" McGonagall interrupted at this point, confused. Mrs. Granger widened her eyes in shock, and mumbled something under her breath like "Imagine not knowing what coffee is…") .. or perhaps a snack of some kind, maybe like a muffin or something like that…?"

"No thank you, I've already ate." Professor McGonagall replied, but she smiled to show that she really and truly appreciated the offer.

"Okay then… well, I'm going to go check on some things. I'm a dentist you know, and some of my clients make appointments online and such… you must understand."

Professor McGonagall nodded, but you could tell by her slightly confused face that she didn't get it at all. Professor McGonagall then turned to Hermione, gaining as much composure as she could muster as she (a skilled professor at the best wizard school nevertheless) could as she had just looked utterly and completely dumb and (dare I say it?) stupid.

"Well, Hermione, I hope that you like these books." Professor McGonagall said, smiling at Hermione.

"Oh, I will." Hermione replied, smiling. "I promise." None of them noticed when she took her finger and lightly traced the wand shaped bump hidden in her sleeve.

XxXxXxXxX

"Hermione, it's time to go to Hogwarts!" Hermione's mom yelled up the stairs.

Hermione looked up from her book, even though she obviously couldn't see her mom from the bed where she was sitting. "Coming!" She yelled back.

Hermione sat up and then she put the book in the bag where she had put all the books she had on wizardry, being extra careful to put in her normal wizard world books as well as her Hogwarts school books inside of the bag.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Hermione half hopped, half dashed off of her bed and scrambled down the stairs.

"Sheesh, I didn't even hear the doorbell ring." She muttered to herself under her breath, but sure enough, right in front of her, was Professor McGonagall, smiling at her.

"Hello Hermione, hope that you weren't _too_ engrossed in those books." Professor McGonagall said, smiling slightly.

"No, no, not _too_ engrossed at all!" Hermione exclaimed quickly. Though she wouldn't admit it, she had taken a small peek at one of the spells and tried a couple of the basic spells. She had been slightly embarrassed of doing such a bold thing, though to be perfectly honest she truly had no idea why she had been so embarrassed over trying to practice a couple of spells.

"Good then, we don't want you to strain your eyes reading on the train." Professor McGonagall said, a small smirk (or at least that's what Hermione thought. It could have simply been a normal smile, but Hermione for some reason was feeling suspicious that day, probably because of her magic tries) on her lips.

"Sure." Hermione replied, but her cheeks were pink because that was exactly what she had planned to do. She had no wizard friends, and was sure that probably she would make friends with other Muggle borns, as she had read enough of the books to realize that Muggle born were low on the wizard ranking list. "Professor McGonagall…?" She asked.

"Yes?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Well…er… never mind. I just had a question and then remembered the answer to it, that's all."

"Oh!" Professor McGonagall replied, with a laugh. "Then, Hermione, are you ready to go to Hogwarts?"

"Yeah!" Hermione exclaimed.

Professor McGonagall laughed. "That's sure what I like to hear." She said. "I'll just take you there, and then you can go there yourself. I have to take care of some businesses first at Hogwarts before all of you students get there."

Hermione nodded. "Okay then. I'll see you later Professor McGonagall!"

The professor smiled at Hermione, gave a slight nod, then pulled out her wand and disappeared. "Huh. Must be some kind of magic." Hermione heard her mom mutter to herself, with a slight sigh, pressed the back of her hand against her forehead, a damp dish towel clutched tightly in her hand. "Wizards… man."

Hermione chuckled lightly to herself. "The professor forgot something!" She exclaimed, giggling, then held out her hand. "One. Two. Three!" And, voila, Professor McGonagall was back! Standing right in front of Hermione. Her cheeks were a bright rosy red color and she smiled sheepishly at Hermione in total embarrassment.

"Sorry about that, Hermione. I guess I was in a bit of a rush and… well, you know."

"That's okay." Hermione replied, tossing the old professor a stern look, though it was only a single glance the professor pressed her lips together. Hermione was very good at glaring. "Just make sure it doesn't happen again."

The professor blushed, like a little child caught stealing candy from the cupboard. "Okay!" And then they left.

XxXxXxXxX

Hermione climbed into one of the train compartments. "Hey, can I sit here?" She asked a brown haired boy holding a toad in his hands, sitting down on one of the seats. He looked up.

"Oh, sure!" He said, sounding shocked that she had asked him. "I'm Neville." The boy said as Hermione sat down on one of the seats.

Hermione smiled at him. "I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger. I'm a Muggle born."

Neville jumped forwards and slapped his hand right across Hermione's mouth. "Shhh! If you're a Muggle born, that's not the thing that you'd really seem to appreciate to fling around! Don't you know? Muggle borns are the lowest of the lowest rank in the wizard world."

Hermione glared at him. "So, you're a pure blood then?"

Neville flushed and shook his head, his cheeks a bright pinkish red color. "No, no! Far from it! I'm a half blood! But if you go yapping your mouth about being a Muggle born, then Pure bloods like the Malfoys and other families will sure make life difficult for you though."

"Is half blood as bad as Muggle born?" Hermione asked quizzically, raising an eyebrow.

"No, not _as_ bad… but still…"

Hermione stood up. "I think I'll go to another compartment." She said, even though she knew perfectly well that the train had already begun moving.

Neville frowned, looking extremely downtrodden. "Oops. I think I've made a bad impression." He said, biting his lip.

"No, no! It's just that…" Hermione paused, frowning a bit.

"So, do want a chocolate frog?" Neville asked as he pulled out a small bluish colored box and handing it to the dark brown haired girl.

Hermione blinked. "Is that chocolate, molded into a frog?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot that you were a Muggle born!" Neville exclaimed, slapping his forehead on the palm of his hand. "I'm such a big idiot!" He smiled at her. "With chocolate frogs, most people don't eat them. I've heard of some people that eat them, but generally not much. There's been a spell cast on them so that they can jump. The problem is, that they've only got one good jump."

"Oh. Then why did you buy one of these chocolate frog things anyways? Sheesh." Hermione replied, rolling her eyes and she folded her arms over her chest.

Neville laughed. "Oh, I don't buy them because they taste good!" He exclaimed, grinning.

"How can you know if they taste good when you most likely probably haven't even tasted one of these chocolate frogs anyways?" Hermione asked haughtily.

"Well, I suppose that I don't." Neville said. "But, well, you know, they're chocolate so they should taste good, right?" He opened it, and a chocolate frog bounced out. He pulled out a small pentagon shaped card. "_This_ is the reason that we have chocolate frogs." He said, grinning.

Hermione raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Trading cards?" She asked.

"Trading cards!" Neville replied enthusiastically, nodding.

Hermione sighed. "Oh. Really?" She asked with a sigh?

They talked a bit more, and Hermione found out a couple of things about Neville, and they became fast friends. Hermione found it hard not to be friends with Neville, who was a little clumsy and fairly forgetful.

"Oh, yeah, can I see your toad again?" Hermione asked when there had been an awkward pause in the conversation, as they had already been talking for about three quarters of the ride to Hogwarts.

Neville smiled. "Okay!" He said cheerfully, then opened his bag and… "Darn, where's Trevor?" He asked himself out loud, taking out a book and banging it against his forehead.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Hermione reached up and caught Neville's wrist. "Quit it!" She exclaimed, her eyes harsh and her voice stern. "Doing this and getting mad at yourself isn't going to help you find your toad any. So stop it." She sighed, and stood up. "Come on." She said briskly, smoothing out her Hogwarts robe which she had put on earlier, when Neville had gone on a trip to the bathroom.

"What do you mean?" Neville asked, puzzled.

Hermione sighed. "What do you mean?" She asked incredulously. "I mean, that we're going to ask around about if someone's seen your toad." She had to refrain and quickly caught herself before she could say: "Duh."

"Oh." Neville said in sudden realization, nodding enthusiastically. "Alright then!" The dark haired boy stood up as well, smiling.

Hermione opened the door, and walked out, Neville trailing slightly behind her. Hermione opened the nearest compartment door, and poked her head in.

There sat two red headed, freckled boys, obviously twins, and a dark skinned boy, who was most likely an African-American, not that Hermione wanted to be racist and take guesses just because of his skin color.

The three looked up and glanced at Hermione. "Yeah?" The twins asked simultaneously. Hermione vaguely wondered if they had practiced that, or something equally ridiculous.

"Have you seen a toad around?" She asked, her voice brisk and crisp. "Neville's lost one." She explained with a slightly exasperated sigh.

The twins and the dark skinned boy looked at each other. "No, we haven't seen one." The dark skinned boy said, laughing. "But we could turn a teacher into one if you want!"

"Good one Jordan!" One of the red headed twins reached out and slapped him on the back in hearty congrats.

"Thanks, coming from a Weasley prank king and witty retort prince that's a fairly good compliment." Jordan said, but it was obvious that he was mocking them but in a teasing, friendly way.

Hermione let out a huffy sigh. "How irresponsible!" She exclaimed, tilting her chin up and turned, shutting the compartment door. "Definitely not in there." She said.

Neville sighed. "Darn. Oh well, let's keep going."

Hermione opened the next compartment door, annoyed to find a couple of giggling sixth years. "He is so cute!" One exclaimed.

"Definitely hot." Another said. They kept on giggling and laughing.

Hermione sighed. "Excuse me." She said, brushing a messy lock of dark chocolate brown hair from her forehead behind her ear.

The girls looked up, obviously annoyed. "Yeah?" One asked snottily. "What?"

"I was wondering if you've seen a toad around here somewhere." Hermione said with an exasperated sigh. "Neville's lost his."

"Ew!" One of the girls, a blonde, exclaimed. "Gross! No way, I wouldn't let a toad anywhere near me!"

"Fine." Hermione said huffily. "You don't need to be so rude about it either!"

As she closed the compartment door, she heard one of them say: "She totally needs a makeover. Did you see her?" And sighed in annoyance. _Fan girls._ She thought. _Probably don't study that hard in class either._

Neville started clamming up, and tears started to well up in his eyes.

"Oh, don't cry Neville!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Why don't you wait a while in the compartment?" Neville suggested, tears already starting to stream down his cheeks. "I'll search around a bit, if that's okay with you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow suspiciously, but agreed, though it was quite relucently. "Okay then, if that's what you really want Neville." She said. "Then I can't change your mind. Come get me if you need me, okay?"

"Okay." Neville agreed, smiled at her, and then Hermione left him to be.

Hermione pushed a frizzy lock of light brown hair behind her ear, something that she found she did often, then went into her compartment and pulled out a book (it seemed to be on history, though she could never be quite sure about that fact) that she realized she had forgotten to read while she had reread **Hogwarts: A History** so many times. Over, and over, and over.

It was called **Wizarding Families and Ranks**. _Ranks._ Hermione thought, feeling a little dizzy. They had ranks in the Wizard world? This was a bit of a shock, but she opened the book anyways. Hermione read and read, feeling a bit overwhelmed and shocked but the book was interesting and a stubborn part of her refused to put the interesting but offending book down.

The witch quickly realized that Neville had been telling the truth when he had explained that Muggle born witches and wizards gained absolutely no respect. It didn't show any bad words used to describe Muggle born magic folk, but Hermione had a feeling that there would be many of them, all horribly insulting.

Then something caught her eye. _List of Pureblood Families_. Hermione felt slightly sick. From what she had read, Purebloods weren't people you were rude to, or the consequences could be dire.

In other words, it would be social suicide. Not that she really cared, but honestly, who didn't want a couple of friends? She liked Neville enough, but having him as her only friend? She really didn't want that happening.

A name popped out at Hermione as she was reading. _Malfoy_. She once again felt that odd, slightly sickening feel. _Malfoy_. She had heard the name before… but where?

Then she remembered. _"My name's Draco. Draco_ Malfoy_." _She remembered how proud he had looked when he said it, and how annoyed he looked when she had no idea what importance that had.

_Ooh… I guess that I shouldn't have mentioned that I'm a Muggle born to him… that must be why he stared at me in such horror… as though I was trash_.

Just then, Neville popped his head in. "Uh.. Hermione?" He asked.

Hermione snapped her head up. "Yeah, Neville?" She asked, clearing all thoughts of pure bloods away from her mind.

"These people… this disrespected me, and I don't know if they've seen Trevor or not…"

"Say no more." Hermione said, standing up and putting the book in her sack. She tucked her wand in her backpack.

When they reached the compartment Hermione opened the door. "Has anyone seen a toad?" She asked, her voice as quick as always. "Neville's lost one." Then she caught sight of his wand. It was a rubbish looking wand, but a wand all the same and she was slightly interested.

"We've already told him that we haven't seen it." A redheaded, freckled boy who looked a lot like the disrespectful twins said, his voice sounding slightly annoyed.

"Oh, are you doing magic?" She asked, interested. "Let's see it, then." She sat down, completely forgetting about Neville and his lost toad.

The freckled boy looked taken aback. "Er—alright." He said, then waved his wand. "Sunshine, dasies, butter mellow. Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." The rat in question stayed fast asleep, and very gray.

"Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells (just for practice, of course), and they've all worked for me, you know." Then her rank slipped out before she could stop her big, fat mouth.

"Nobody in my family's magic though, it was such a great shock to me when I got my letter, but all the same I was ever so pleased. I mean—of course I'd be pleased—it's the best school of witchcraft in England, so I've heard at least… learned all the course books by heart, just hope it's enough… Oh yeah, my name's Hermione Granger, who are you?" All this was said quickly and in a single breath. Hermione blushed. Talking fast was getting to be a rather bad habit.

The red headed boy and dark haired boy (who had stayed silent for the entire conversation, not that he could probably get in a word anyways, with Hermione babbling on and on like a total idiot, he had bangs covering his forehead) exchanged looks. They book looked absolutely stunned.

"I'm Ron Weasley." The red head boy muttered, sounding slightly defeated.

"Harry Potter." The brown haired boy said, but it wasn't much in a proud way, he was simply stating the facts, but he looked as though he was slightly embarrassed about the fact… embarrassed! Imagine that!

"Are you really?" Hermione asked, shocked though she didn't try to show it. "I know all about _you_ of course—got a few extra books, just for background reading, mind you. You know that you're in Magical History? And, not to mention The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" Harry asked, looking slightly dazed.

"Goodness!" Hermione exclaimed. "I would have found out everything that I needed to know if I were you!" She exclaimed, and then blinked. "Oh yeah, what house do you think you'd be in?" She asked. "I want to be in Gryffindor, after all, I've heard that that's by far the best, Dumbledore himself was in it, you know."

The brown haired boy blinked, as though he didn't know this.

"I hope that I'm not in Slytherin though, I heard that was _You Know Who_'s house…"

At this point Harry snorted, as though annoyed at her saying You Know Who instead of his name.

"… and Hufflepuff… well, not to be mean but it would be _so_ embarrassing to be in _that_ house, you know? Well… I suppose that Ravenclaw would be okay, but I really _do_ want to be in Gryffindor." She sighed. "What about you?"

"Well…"

Hermione glanced at her watch, not giving Ron a chance to answer. "Oh, we'd better get going. I suspect that the train will reach Hogwarts pretty soon…" She paused, and then looked at the two boys disdainfully. "You'd better get changed, you know." She said, and then left, Neville trailing quietly behind her.

"You know, you shouldn't have been so rude to Harry Potter." Neville said, his voice was quiet as though he were upset but didn't really want to show it.

Hermione glanced momentarily at him. "Why not?" She asked, annoyed.

"Because… well… because he's Harry Potter, that's why." Neville said, struggling to find a better argument.

"Neville!" Hermione scolded. "What's so different about Harry Potter than the rest of us? Why is he so much better? What reason do the rest of us have to, to bow down to him? To treat him like he's the king? I can treat him like a normal person, for Pete's sake! I'll bet he wants that too. I'll bet that he's tired of you going on and on, treating him so weirdly, as though he's some king?"

"We just… do." Neville said, starting to stutter.

"What can he do that we can't, huh?" Hermione asked.

"I'll tell you what he can do that we can't do." Neville said. "He defeated the dark lord. He killed Lord Voldemort, and he's the reason that you're alive." He paused. "If you can't be grateful for that than you're heartless."

"I'll bet all my money's worth that he doesn't even remember what happened that day." Hermione said, almost tripping over as the train stopped, causing them to stumble forwards a little. "Oh, we're here."

"We'll continue this conversation another time." Neville said.

"No, we won't." Hermione retorted, opening the compartment door and picked up her sack. She slung it over her shoulder.

Neville sighed. He seemed to know that his new friend was way too stubborn to argue with.

Hermione smiled at Neville as they walked out of the train. "Whoa." Hermione said, blinking as a tall… no… _gigantic_ looking man with long, shaggy black hair and small beetle black eyes lumbered towards them.

"First years, over here!" He exclaimed. "Well, over here! Come on! Any more first years?" He paused, looking around. "No?" The giant of a man smiled. "Well then, come on! His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, and Hermione decided that no matter how big he was, he still seemed to be quite a nice man.

"I'll bet you anything that that's Hagrid." Neville whispered to Hermione. "Mum said that I should watch for a nice man called Hagrid. Grandma's not supposed to be too fond of him, but, you know, grandma's not really fond of anything, as far as I'm concerned."

Hermione suppressed a smile, but it tugged at the corners of her lips. The smile quickly disappeared when they reached a thin pathway, stumbling and about half of the first years slipping on the steep, narrow path. It was so dark that Hermione had to squint, but she was unable to find what was blocking the sunlight.

It was fairly quiet, though Hermione was positive that she heard Neville whimper once or twice, probably over his beloved toad, Trevor.

"Don't worry first years." Hagrid said, seeming to understand the students' fidgeting, annoyance and impatience. "You'll get to see your first view of Hogwarts up close pretty soon. Just around the corner, it is."

Relieved _oh'_s rang out in the air, then oh's of shock. At the end of the narrow path they reached the edge of a great black lake. Hermione saw that, past the lake, perched upon a mountain, was a beautiful castle. It had towers and edges, and Hermione smiled when she saw sparkling windows, glinting off the sunlight.

"No more than four people a boat." Hagrid said. Just then, Hermione spotted a couple of small boats.

The students walked down the steps, and Hermione sat in a boat with Neville. The brown haired girl was slightly annoyed when Harry and Ron sat down with them, but there wasn't much that she could do about it.

"Forwards!" The large man said loudly and all together, the small boats glided forwards silently over the lake. The lake was smooth… _like glass_. Hermione noted. It was quiet, all the students silent. "HEADS DOWN!" Hagrid yelled as they neared a cliff. Hermione quickly ducked her head down, just in time too.

Pretty soon they stopped, and Hagrid checked the boats, and then paused as he passed by Neville. "Oh yeah, is this your toad?" He asked, holding a toad out in front of Neville.

"Trevor!" Neville cried joyfully, his face lighting up in excitement. They followed Hagrid, then Hagrid turned, right in front of the Hogwarts school doors.

"Everyone's still here, right?" Hagrid asked. There were nods. "You there!" He turned to Neville who blinked, startled. "You've still got your toad, right?" Neville nodded, his wide eyes turning slightly thinner.

Hagrid raised a massive fist and knocked on the door. _Bam, bam, bam._ Slowly, the door creaked open.


End file.
